Taken
by mmsinful
Summary: Girls disappear from their homes every year, never to return to their homes again. Bella has just become one of them. Follow her as she learns the meaning of friendship and trust, and maybe along the way, love. / Dark themes/ Co-author: helluvabell
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer for all chapters: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own anything.**

**Warning: This story is dark. It has torture, rape, and a lot of angst. Do not read if you are under the age of 18. If the content of the story bothers you then don't read, simple as that. This is an E/B pairing. Please review and let me know what you think.**

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><p>My name is Bree Collins and I am fabulous. I'm a 16 year old girl living the life everyone wants. I have long blond hair that reaches down my back and my body is to kill with sensuous curves. My friends envy what I have... hell, they want to be me, while the boys want to date me. My parents are the greatest in the world giving me everything that I need, but mostly everything I want.<p>

My best friends are Lauren and Jessica. Lauren is tall, blond and beautiful; she also has the personality of a viper, she would never think twice to strike and sink her poisonous fangs in order to get what she wants. Not me though, I'm much more powerful than her and she knows it. Jessica is short and average. Her bubbly personality is what keeps her in this trio of ours. She's also the one who keeps us all together.

I sit down on my large bed and recline my body down, holding my weight with my elbows. I take a look around my room, amazed at the grandeur of it. My body relaxes as I close my eyes and let my head hang back. I faintly feel the brush of my long lustrous hair along my arms. I want to relax completely but something is holding me back. My body is thrumming, on the the verge of some climax. I feel my hips shift on my soft bed, making the thrumming that much stronger. I shift my hips again, only this time I grind down a bit.

I let my mind drift into a fantasy. I imagine Anthony come inside my room, his steps heavy and slow as he prolongs my wait; anticipation is everything. I let my elbows give way and finally lay down completely. The sound of clothes landing on my plush carpet is heavy. Soon, I feel the ghost of his fingertips, gingerly dancing around the edges of my skirt. His touch is soft, feathery light, almost ticklish as it skims by my inner thigh. He slowly starts to pull the spaghetti straps of my cami down my shoulders, slowly passing my breasts. My nipples instantly harden as the cold air blows on them.

The waiting is driving me crazy, and yet... I wait because I know that it'll be worth it. My panties are pulled down while soft fingers pull at my nipples. A slender finger runs the length of my slit from opening to clit. I shiver, writhing my body on the mattress. I'm soaking wet, dripping down on my egyptian cotton comforter. Without any warning, he slams his heavy cock inside, my gasp ringing loud in the otherwise quiet room. He pounds into in relentlessly; his movements are uncoordinated and jerky.

My release is almost there, not quite there, and then he finishes as the door to my room opens. Lauren stumbles her way inside the room, sitting down by my head and holds my hand in between both of hers. I don't say anything because I'm confused. I look up and see a flash of green pass through my still open door. I close my eyes as fatigue finally takes over.

After what seems like hours, I start to wake up. My body is cold, sore and just plain tired. I feel a finger making patterns on my stretched arm. I expect to see Lauren looking down at me when I finally open my eyes, but instead of finding Lauren's baby blues I see turquoise; I see Rosalie.

I open my mouth with a gasp as realization slowly starts to enter my mind. I'm not lying down on an egyptian cotton comforter, or even a bed for that matter. I'm lying down on an old cardboard box that has been spread flat to fit the size of my body. The once bright room filled in luxury has turned in to an old charred empty room. There is a pungent smell coming from the floor, I turn to see that it's vomit. I touch my mouth but I find it clean.

"It's mine," whispers Rosalie.

I don't reply back, I'm still confused. My body's aches start to make themselves more pronounced, specially between my legs. I trail a hand down my body; my cami has been pulled down to my waist where it's bunched up against the rest of my skirt, my panties are missing.

Rosalie helps me put myself together and I look at her confused. I feel my head pounding and I know that I'm missing something, I just can't remember what.

"They drugged you this time," she whispers. "When I came in... Edward was just finishing with you... you know..."

I don't know, but I can guess. My mind clears painting the real picture. My room... our room is not grandeur... I don't know where we are. Lauren does not exist, not really. Lauren is Rosalie, but Rosalie is nice, not a viper. Jessica doesn't exist either, she's Alice. Alice is not bubbly or nice; Alice is just... there, almost not existent. It's easier not to care, one always dies along the way.

My parents don't give me what I want either, I don't know where they are. My friends definitely don't envy me, I envy them. I envy the freedom they have, I envy everything they are. I touch my head, hoping to calm down the pounding. I'm met with multiple knots instead. My hair is not blond and beautiful, it's brown and limp. My sensuous curves are gone and replaced by a slim figure that has been the cause of bad nutrition.

The door opens and Alice is pushed in by one of them. He's one of the nicer ones, still... we don't trust them; he's Jasper, I think. Alice doesn't make a sound as her body falls to the floor. Instead she crawls over to where we are, huddled together by a corner furthest from the door. Jasper gives her one last look before finally closing the door.

I poke Alice on her leg, she doesn't respond, she never does. They always take her away to a room that we all know too well. I hate that room; they make us scream when we're in that room, specially Alice; they like to see how much they can make her scream.

I shake my head in denial.

_How much longer? How much longer?_ I chant in my head. I want everything to go away, I want to go home.

My name is Isabella Swan and I am 17 years old. I am one of the few girls who goes missing around the world. I am one of the taken.

This is day 64.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: **

**This story is not all rainbows. I don't try to pretend to know what real victims go through or even how they really feel. This is a fictional story. Nothing more. Characters are OOC. I don't know how long the story will be, as a matter of fact, the story keeps changing from my outline as I write the chapters... so we'll see. Thank you for the reviews, I hope you'll stay along for the ride.**

**Warning: **

**Violence and language not suitable for anyone really, specially if you're under 18. **

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><p><strong>BPOV:<strong>

I hardly remember my mom and dad. I'm sad by it, but when I put things in perspective, I realize what a blessing it is. Who wants to remember people you can't see anymore, or won't see anymore? I think about them missing me though. Do they look for me? Do they know what happened to me? Do they think I'm dead? That would be best, for them of course.

It's day 66 and I'm excited because they are bringing in a new girl. I know that it's not nice of me to be glad that someone is brought into a situation as bad as mine; but I can't help to feel so alleviated that someone else is going to be here and distract them for a bit. She's the new shiny toy that they want to play with.

She's very pretty, almost stunning. Her hair is long and still shiny. She still has meat on her bones, not for long though... although, today is feeding day so who knows. She looks at us and sneers like we are at fault. Rosalie stands up and steps in front of me and Alice. We don't know her so she's dangerous.

"Who the fuck are you guys and what am I doing here!" she spats. She's not so pretty when she's angry.

"We," she sweeps her arms to point at all of us including her "were taken from our homes, kidnapped, stolen... what ever. Just learn to listen and do what ever they say. Oh, and, honey? When they take you to a room with a table that has chains, it's better if you scream only when they touch you."

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean!" she yells at Rosalie, only to shut up when the door opens.

We all back up instinctively, it's James. "Well, well, well. Now look at you... all nice and feisty," he compliments her, licking his lips.

I suppress a shudder, I don't want him to remember that I'm still alive. I feel Alice grip my hand from behind me. It seems as if she's snapping out of her silent, zombie state. Rosalie backs and stands next to me instead.

"I demand that you take me home. Do you have any idea who I am? I am, Tanya Denali, daughter of State Senator Eleazar Denali and heiress to his Estate. I demand that you release me at once."

I look at her feel jealous, not because she's pretty or because she obviously comes from wealthy parents. I feel jealous because of the power her father has. He has better resources and chances of finding her. She has better chances of leaving here alive.

James laughs, long and hard, even bending over the waist. I contemplate hitting him behind the head for a second, but he catches my eye and winks, like if he knows what I'm thinking. I recoil and hit the wall behind me instead. He laughs some more, pleased with the fear.

He gives us once last look before finally locking gaze with his new toy. "Well then, let me introduce myself. My name is James, son of whore and the man who raped her. I've got no money, but I do get free pussy, and baby... it's your turn."

He grabs her as she tries to run away from him. She fights him, scratching his face with her long, fake nails. He starts to get mad and finally pins her to the floor by straddling her chest and placing one knee on each arm. "Oh, you should never have done that."

He reaches in to his back pocket and takes out a swiss army knife. He opens it and brings it close to her face. I don't want to watch, he's cruel, the cruelest of any bunch. I close my eyes and cover my ears when a scream rings out. Alice cowers so close to me that she might as well be sitting on my lap. The screams grow louder and a new thumping noise can be heard, making me guess that she's thrashing on the floor. The screams continue before they suddenly stop.

"There... now that's all much better," he says, sounding smug.

I open my eyes and see blood all over the floor. Tanya is passed out, flood oozing from her hand. I can't tell what he's done to her, only that whatever it was, it's a got to be deep. He stands and looks at the knife before bringing to his lips and licks the blood off of it. I fight the fresh wave of nausea and the bile that's fighting to come out. I know there's nothing to vomit, we haven't eaten in two days; dry heaving is the worst.

He reaches down and picks up something from the floor before reaching down and grabbing one of her legs. He drags her out of the room that way, her head hitting whatever bumps are on the floor. Before he closes the door, he peeks in at us.

"Oh, girls. I thought I'd leave you guys a little snack before your food arrives."

He laughs as he throws something in our direction before finally leaving us and closes the door. The treat hits me in the chest before I'm able to catch it. I don't move, too afraid of what the treat might be. Rosalie doesn't, she's too curious. She looks through the trash, not stopping until she finally pulls something red out before dropping it back down and puking on her other side. I'm curious now, Rosalie hardly pukes. I look through the trash, looking for something red. I find it just as I move a used 3 week old piece of toilet paper. I don't pick it up, too grossed out. I can't stop the tremors that flow through me as I dry heave. I watch as Alice grabs it and throws it underneath the door towards the outside corridor. She silently walks back and sits down on my lap, not moving anymore for the rest of the day.

Tanya Denali, daughter of a state senator and heiress to lots of money, can't be saved; none of us can.

_At least she still has nine fingers left, _I think to myself, not the least bit jealous anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: Hello, everyone. First and foremost . . . Thank you. Thank you for your reviews and thank you for your support. I read every one of them and trust me, they make my day. Now, as far as updating goes, I can't just sit down and write, we are in June, last month of school and having 3 kids in school and a baby at home kind of sucks out my energy to even think. The only time I have to write is between 11pm and 2am. So, once June is over, the updates will continue at a faster pace. As far as the story goes, it has literally fallen off my outline of events. It has taken a life of its own and I am asking for help. Help because it is a sensitive matter, one I don't think I comprehend myself. But I'm asking for a co-author. Someone that I can swap ideas with and make an even better story and not just something out of my ass. I know the general direction it's going but even then, I would feel more comfortable if I had someone to share ideas with: a co-author, collaborator or whatever. Maybe you guys just want me to continue on my own. So I'll leave it up to you guys. Other than that, thank you and until next time.**

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><p><strong>BPOV:<strong>

Today is day 68 and so far things have been quiet. I've been on the brink of a panic attack, anytime the door opens my heart and my breaths speed up and my chest tightens... until I realize it's not my turn. Once in a while one of the men will come in and take us in to a room where they have us do different things. It's scary to favor any of them but it is really unavoidable since they each have their own quirks; do I want to be beaten today or do I want to perform a heinous act of sex? Not that I can choose of course, but like I say, the lesser of evils is always preferable.

The most feared and sadistic one of them all is James. I don't know anything about him other than he's a rapist spawn from hell. If it wasn't for the evil smile he always sports, I guess he would look like your average frat boy, blue eyes, blond hair and about 6'1. James is all about physical pain.

The biggest and scariest looking is called Emmett. I haven't really spend time with him, other than the time in the car when he brought me from the holding chamber. He prefers Rosalie, which she isn't too fond of their time together since she won't speak of it. The only other time I spend with him he had me give him a bath.

Jasper is the quiet one. He likes to test us in different ways, always feeding from our fears. Unlike James who likes physical pain, Jasper uses a different method, he plays in to our fears. The first time I met him, he had Alice with him. I could hear her scream bloody murder from the top of her lungs. I was so afraid to see bruises on little Alice, but instead she just came in shaking. I later learned why; instead of hitting me or using me for sex, he tied my hands and legs and threw me inside what looked to be a furnace. It turns out, the room was an old morgue and he had placed me where they burned the bodies in to ashes. The darkness and lack of moving room were the worst, not knowing how long I had been in there was horrible, not knowing if he was going to turn on the damn thing had me crying out like Alice.

That leaves Anthony, or Edward, depending on his mood. According to Esme, his real name is Edward, but he has a split personality; vicious Anthony and sweet Edward. Edward is the one who gives me the drugs whenever he takes me, Anthony on the other hand likes to slap me around and parade my insecurities. You never knew who you were against until his hand came down and he either slapped your or caressed your cheek. Unlike Jasper, he doesn't have any preference either, except for the fact that he hates it whenever one of the other guys touches me.

For the third time today my breath hitches when the door opens. I'm better at controlling my nerves, even though they still get the best of me. My body straightens to it's full height and I slowly make my way back against a wall as I try to blend in, something all the other girls do at the same time. I slightly relax when I see Tanya's body collapse on the floor. Gone is the beautiful girl with blond hair and blue eyes whose father is rich. Now in her place, is a broken and bruised girl who is missing a finger and a couple of nails, who doesn't have a father anymore. I take interest in her hair more because it's not long and blond, it's black and spiky-short just like Alice's hair. She doesn't move and none of the other girls move to help her.

Instead of the door closing, it remains open as someone else walks in carrying a big tray of food. My stomach gurgles in response along with a wave of nausea. It has been so long since I had a piece of chicken, even longer the barbecue chicken on the platter. He walks in and places the tray on the floor in front of me.

"I thought you might be hungry," he murmurs, his eyes never straying from my wary ones.

It doesn't escape my notice that he is only talking to me and not the rest of the girls whose focus are placed on us. I think of my answer thoroughly because I don't know who he is, or rather who he is at the moment. He hasn't hit me or caressed me yet. I don't know how to act. Do I drop in my submissive form and prepare for the slapping? Or will that insult him as it usually does when he's Edward? The last thing I want is to make him mad and change him from Edward in to Anthony by mistake. My stomach rumbling reminds me that I still haven't answered him.

"Uh, thank you. We are very much hungry," I whisper back. I immediately know that was the wrong answer to give when he stands up pushes my body further up against the wall as he chokes the air out of my lungs. The tips of my toes barely grace the floor as my limbs try to find purchase on anything at all.

"I didn't fucking ask you if **they** were hungry, did I? I asked if **you** are hungry, **you, you**!" he screams as he tightens his hands on my neck.

Black spots dance before my eyes as sweet oblivion takes over.

**Sometime later...**

I finally wake up but I'm on a bed, an actual bed, one that could rival the one Bree has. The room is almost dark but it has a warm glow from a candle lit lamp on a wall, reminding me of mid-evil times. I've never been in this room before, but from what I can see, it belongs to someone important. I'm confused and try to think if I am Bree right now. Has he drugged me again? Or, have I finally gone crazy all on my own?

My body is a little sore from being in the same position. I stretch my body like a cat does when it wakes up, jutting my chest out and raising my arms up above my head.

I sit up completely at the sound of a chuckle coming from next to me. "There you are, baby."

I swivel my head to the sound of the chuckle and relax. My smile is genuine as I reach over and hug the closest mother figure I have as of lately, Esme. "Esme! How are you? How long have you been here? Are you leaving soon? Did you bring me here? Where is Edw... Anth..." _How to name him?_ I muse.

"Hold on, hold on, little one. One at a time, sweetheart," she coos, interrupting my rambling. "I'm fine, good actually. I've been here long enough to know what is happening, I'm not leaving soon and no I didn't bring you here. Anthony... he's... well... busy at the moment."

I let out a breath of relief to know that I won't be seeing him for a while, Edward I don't mind, but Anthony is too much like James. I reach over again and hug her tight to me as I let out a shuddering breath. She pats my back, providing so much needed comfort that it reminds me of my own mother. I wipe those images away quickly because I know the more I think of my parents, the more I'll lose my mind.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" she asks, caressing my cheek once I pull away.

I do a quick check of my body only to find that I have a sore throat. "I'm fine," I tell her as honestly as possible, after all, I've had so much worse.

"Esme?" I ask her as she trails her fingers from my cheek down my throat towards my clavicle. The act itself feels intimate and a little uncomfortable but I dislodge the feelings and convince myself that it's a motherly touch and nothing more, because sometimes, my mind has a way to twist things around.

"Yes, baby," she murmurs, her eyes following the trail her fingers leave.

"Where is um..." I trail off because I don't know if it's Anthony or Edward I'm asking about at the moment. Did Anthony switch back to Edward or is he still Anthony.

_So confusing_... my thoughts trail off because her fingers are leaving a hot trail as they move along different directions.

She looks into my eyes and knows what I'm asking. "Anthony's time is occupied. He went down to the chamber."

My eyes widen at the implications. The chamber is the holding cell that is filled with girls of all ages, waiting to be taken to our final place of residence. I, along with all the little girls, except for one who looked to be about 11, were given a white piece of tape to put on our wrist. The other colors were either red or blue and were distributed among the older set of girls. When I asked Rosalie if she knew what the colors meant, she said white was for virgins, red for non virgins, and blue she wasn't sure. During one of my sessions with James, he boasted to his friends how he always got the best merchandise; what I try to forget is the girl that was bent over a table spread eagle while James and his buddies took out some white little bags from inside her body. That is how I found out that blue was for mules. I also try to forget the face of the eleven year old girl who had the blue tape on her wrist.

"Wh . . . why is he going to the chamber?" I ask myself out loud even though I already know the answer.

"Replacements," she simply answers as she continues to trail her fingers down my chest.

_Replacements?_ I think to myself. A replacement for Tanya maybe? But no, she said replacements as in plural. And then the thought strikes me, they are replacing us, all of us... me. They are going to kill us and replace us.

_Oh, no! No, no, nonononono_... is my last thought as sweet oblivion strikes again.


	4. Chapter 4 helluvabell

**A/N: **** Hello everyone, once again thanks for all the add-ons and reviews. This chapter is special because it was written entirely by someone else. That's right, we have a co-author. I would like to introduce **_**helluvabell,**_** who also has a story posted on this website as well as others. Like I told her, she has cleared the cobwebs and helped me refine the story itself, so a very huge thank you! Before, the story could have, and was going everywhere; but now with her help, we have a more glued on storyline that we're super excited about. So please review and let us know what you think of this chapter. **

**!Warning!**

**This chapter contains material that is not suitable for younger than 18. Some might not like the content of this chapter but it is necessary. There is a concept of taboo. This is real to some people, not in these conditions, but real non the less. We are not saying that their way of life is wrong or right, because to each their own. This is just the way that these characters are and their opinions are their own, no judgement from either of us authors. So please read at your own discretion and hopefully you'll be able to see it for what it is ... fiction.**

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><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

It all starts with a bath. I think its strange that a grown man wants me to wash his body, but as long as I'm not being smacked around, I won't complain. Baths lead to spankings, and spankings lead to 'rewards.' I should feel disgusted with the things he has me do. It's sick and twisted, but it could be worse.

So, I play his games.

I slowly drag the wooden hair brush though my blonde locks as I look at my surroundings. His room is cleaner than where the girls are kept; there's a bed and desk, spartan but clean. He even has his own bathroom. There's no privacy in the girl's room, only a pail in the corner that we all share. People used to tell me what beautiful hair I have. I'm lucky it hasn't been chopped off like some of the other girls here.

Splashing from the bath tub pulls my attention back to my 'little' man, and I smile softly at his childlike behavior. When he smiles, the sight of his dimples makes me want to smile along with him. Walking to the tub, I say, "Emmy, you need to be a good boy for Mommy. Quit splashing around. Or do I need to take you out of the bath?"

He casts his beautiful blue eyes down and whispers, "But I'm still dirty."

I lean over the side of the tub and say, "Would you like Mommy to help you wash?"

Without saying a word, he nods his head. I take the washcloth from the sudsy water and slowly drag it over his flesh. He's large and built, the light bouncing off his wet, well-defined muscles, and I hate it. I hate that I could be attracted to a man who helps keep me in a place where I'm hurt repeatedly. I hate that I look forward to our time together. I hate that when I return to my friends, they look at me with pity in their eyes, thinking my silence means I'm being hurt. I don't deserve their pity; Emmett never hurts me. He never chokes me or hits. He doesn't get off on hearing me scream like the others do. He only asks me to take care of him and love him.

But I can't love Emmett.

He's one of _them_.

He makes me touch him… like I'm doing now.

He shivers as the washcloth dips lower down his ripped abs. It's weird hearing a man his size whimper. But I'll make him whimper, just like I'll end up drying his tears when he needs me to hold him and rock him to sleep.

"Mommy, it feels funny," he whispers, his body jerking when the fabric brushes across the purple crown of his hard dick.

"Have you been a good boy today?"

His strong shoulders slump and he mumbles a no. My eyes flood with tears because when Emmett has been bad, it means that he used another girl or worse—it means that another girl was probably brought to this hell. My chin trembles and I fight back the tears that want to fall.

"Please don't cry, Mommy. You can give me spankings, and I'll be a good boy for you."

The tears fall at his words. It's all a fucking game to him. The mind-fuck he puts me through, for what? To get off.

"Stand up," I say, wiping away my tears.

He plays the part of the good boy and I hate the way my eyes rake down his massive body. His beautiful cock twitches when my gaze settles there. It's not fair. It's not fair that he should be so beautiful. It's not fair that I couldn't have met him in a different place.

"Mommy, are you mad?" he asks as I hurry in toweling him off.

"No, just disappointed." How cliché. Isn't that what mothers are suppose to say? I hate that he's taken a dream of mine and perverted it.

If I ever escape, I would never be able to have children.

I would never be able to wash my child, or discipline them, or rock them to sleep. My thoughts will always go back to the times I spend with this large man-child.

He's taken that from me.

Emmett cries out in pain as the hair brush connects with his rear. I'm so lost in my thoughts I don't even realize that I began his punishment. My strokes continue but with less force.

Maybe that's why I go along with his game. I know that I'll never leave this place, but at least I could have this. Whatever _this_ is.

My tears are falling in a steady flow, and I feel Emmett scoop me up in his powerful arms. These arms could crush the life from me. I've seen him squeeze the breath out of girls who fight back, seen him fling girls around that bite and scratch him, but he's never done that to me.

When did I stop fighting back?

I'm still crying when he rocks into my body. His cock feels so wonderful, filling me and reaching places that I didn't know existed. I hate that it feels good. I loathe that _he's_ the one that makes me feel so good.

"Please don't cry, Mommy," Emmett says as he trusts faster into me. "I'll be good for you."

I gasp as he pulls my body closer, his hungry mouth searching for my nipples. He whimpers around a hard nub, and I feel an orgasm stirring in my belly. The bastard is going to do it again. I'm going to come on his cock while he plays his sick game. Despite it all I pull him closer.

My muscles contract and I feel the walls of my pussy milking him. He's so damn good at that. He grunts his release and I feel the heat of his semen as it floods my core.

Emmett's body trembles and he whispers, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry I made you cry."

My body cools, even though his larger one is still pressing half of me into the mattress. His head is resting on my stomach, his reddened bottom up in the air. The sweat that was worked up dries in the cool room, leaving my skin feeling itchy and gritty. I want him off of me. I want to take a bath and wash it all off from my body.

His fingers tickle my sides as he draws patterns on my skin. "Why do you always cry, Rosie? Am I really that bad?"

If I say "yes," he'll distance himself from me, and during our time apart the others will take advantage and use me. They play different games.

"No," I whisper. "You're not. Can you take me back now?"

"Don't you want to wash up first?"

"No, I want to be there for Bella and Alice."

I want to be there to hold Bella's hand while she wakes up after the drugs Edward's given her wear off. I want to be there incase one of the other girls try to take Alice's food again. She won't fight for it like she should. Emmett nods his head, understanding my need to protect them. He told me it was one of the reasons he picked me to play with.

That's not the real reason I want to leave. I don't deserve to bathe. I've acted horribly and should be covered in filth. The other girls are covered with our tormentors' cum. What makes me better than them?

If anything I'm worse. I'm worse because a part of me does like Emmett.

I'm worse because somewhere along the way I quit fighting back.

When Emmett returns me to the room, I notice Bella's missing. Alice is huddled next to the back wall, and I notice a couple of the other girls are looking at her and whispering. Her tiny body is shaking and I know it's because of Jasper.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I spit at them.

Their eyes widen and they scurry away like vermin as I take my place next to Alice. None of the other girls can be trusted. Desperation stirs and the survival mechanism kicks in. You'd think we would all be smart and band together, but these bitches would sooner turn on each other, happy that they were briefly spared pain and degradation.

Alice says nothing; she simply leans her head against my shoulder, but I feel her body relax. She knows I'll look after her.

The door opens and the girls in the room back against the wall. Nobody wants to be singled out. We're in luck because it's not one of them— it's Bella.

She slowly walks over and sits on the other side of me. The bruises around her neck are visible, and I hate Anthony or Edward or whatever the hell his name is for putting them on her. "Are you okay?"

She nods her head. "Esme was taking care of me," she says.

I should be happy that somebody else cares for my friend, but I don't trust Esme. She may not be one of them, but she sure as hell not one of us. Not only that, but her husband is the one that gives Edward the drugs to use on Bella. They make her more defenseless and leave Bella feeling confused and no less used.

I don't understand. They're older than us, and they're not prisoners like we are. Why won't they help us? Emmett rarely talks about them, but when he does, he reverts back to his "little" persona. He says they're the good guys.

I listen to Bella as she smiles and talks about Esme.

I keep my mouth shut.

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><p><strong>AN: Don't forget to review. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

**A/N:** **Thank you for all the support and reviews. Welcome new readers! Thanks for trying the story out. As a reminder, this a collaboration with helluvabell. She's working on the next chapter and all I can say is, it's awesome. Anyways, leave us a review and let's know what you think.**

**Warning:**

**This chapter contains material that is not suitable for people under the age of 18. This story is a product of our sick imaginations and nothing more. Please read at your own risk.**

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><p><strong>JPOV:<strong>

I walk down the grimy corridor, disgusted to even breath the air that surrounds it. I hate walking down this part of the mansion, the area that is kept secret from the rest of staff. We tell them that it's condemned, that we don't need the left wing occupied; when in reality, that's where our most prized possessions are located, the girls. The conditions that the girls are kept in are disgusting – especially when I have seen pigs being treated better in my younger years as a farm boy – but that is another life, one I don't like to think about at all.

My heart begins to thump faster as I get closer to the door at the end of the corridor. Behind that door is her, Alice; the one girl, or rather human, who has been able to evoke any type of emotion from me. Feelings are dangerous, they make you vulnerable, prone to make mistakes. I haven't made any mistakes since the day my father last touched me, since the day I was 'rescued' as a little boy and brought into this purgatory.

I reach the door and take a deep breath, I need to be prepared for the rush that almost overwhelms me when I see her. I open the door as quietly as I can, trying not to give my position. The girls are too engrossed in a stare down. Rosalie is standing in front of Bella in protective stance; I can barely see Alice's hand wrapped around Bella's waist. The other two girls, a dumb waste of space, are trying to seem intimidating.

I clear my throat, catching them off guard. _Perfect,_ I think to myself, as their eyes get big and they all scurry against a wall, as if that will spare any of them. I finally see Alice crumpled on the floor, and there it is, the overflowing rush of adrenaline that flows through my veins, the sweat trickling behind my neck, and the shaking of my limbs that want nothing more than to touch her, crush her, do anything with her at all to stop these fucking unwanted feelings. I fist my hands to control the shaking, the last thing I want is for one of these rats to know that I have a weakness.

"Alice," I command, in the most authoritative voice I can muster. "Get up and follow me."

I watch as she crawls to me, making my wait even more torturous. I heave a sigh of impatience as I reach down to grab her; I lift her up and slung her body over my shoulder. Just as I'm about to leave, I hear one of the rats snicker. I turn to look and see the one with the black hair trying to cover her smile.

"I'm sorry, did you want to join us?" I drawl, as I walk slowly towards her.

Her snickers die as fast as her fear starts to set in. "No, no. I was coughing, I'm sorry," she wails, tears starting to form behind her beady eyes.

"I'll be sure to remember you." I watch in satisfaction as she succumbs to the floor, gasping for air.

Who are they to think that they can talk to any of us like that, that they are better than each other? James is an idiot to think that any of these rats will satisfy his needs. As if they are even worth of breathing the same air as we are.

Fifteen steps to the left, ten steps to the right, twenty steps up the stairs, and a final left turn the room of my choice. The room that has been soundproofed for me specifically. I walk inside and gently lay her body on the metal table. I'm not cruel enough to just throw her like James, I can be gentle. I hurry to strap her limbs to the handcuffs and step back and admire my beauty.

Ever since the first day they brought her in, she has been on my mind; and ever since that Esme gifted her to me, I've been trying to figure out why that is. Alice is special, something that James was too stupid to see when he couldn't make her scream. James' weakness is that he only relies on physical pain, something Alice has a high tolerance off. He could never make her scream like I could.

I was elated to finally do something he never could; when I figured her weakness was her phobia to the dark, well let's just say it was a very dark time for her. I thought that once she screamed the feeling of satisfaction would wipe the other ones away, but all they've done has been to increase with time. _I am getting tired of these games, something needs to change, _I muse.

"Alice, baby," I coo. "Are you going to talk to me today?"

No reaction. Her blank stare is always present, making me hate what she has become. I want her to fight back, to scream at me and make my blood boil like it used to. I nudge her bony arm and watch as she continues to stare at nothing. The dark shadows under her eyes make them look more dark and lifeless. Having hear her scream has been great, but now I want a reaction from her, one that will tell me that she knows it's me that's before her, no one else.

The darkness doesn't affect her anymore I discover. Disappointment floods my body, and then slowly I get enraged. What the hell am I to have now? An empty shell, a rag doll that doesn't even scream anymore?

"Alice, if you don't start responding, I'm going to do bad things." I wait again, only to have disappointment flare again. I think of my options first, reason before actions. What does she have that would garner a reaction. I think about earlier today and how she was holding on to Bella and Rosalie. Friends, friends are the only thing that she has left that have value to her, it's obvious food is not.

I contemplate bringing one of them in. If I bring Rosalie, Emmett would cry like the baby he is, fucking pussy. But the last thing I need is for Esme to come and have a talk with me. I shudder to think what that talk would be like. I contemplate Bella as I pace the table's length, her vacant eyes not even registering my presence. Edward has some type of protective feelings for that rat, not to mention Anthony and his obsession with her. That leaves James' pack.

_Tanya_, I smile. She had been okay the last time I was with her. She screamed too easily for my tastes, a failed experiment when I chopped off her hair and dyed it black to resemble Alice. I wanted to know if it was Alice's appearance rather than the girl. Big fucking waste of time that was.

"Alice, if you don't start responding I'm going to start bringing girls to take your punishment. I'll make you watch, Alice. Don't think I'm replacing you so quickly," I threaten her. No response again.

I walk out of the room, make a right, twenty steps down the stairs, ten steps to the left, fifteen steps to the right and back to the rat's nest. I open the door without hesitation and look for Tanya's body among them. She doesn't seem to be in the room.

"Where is Tanya?" I ask them impatiently.

"Jam- James to-took her," one of them stutters.

Not wanting to ask James for her knowing that he would most likely join the party, I grab the last girl to cross my path; I grab the black haired girl who 'coughed' earlier. I drag her out of the room by her hair, making sure to lock the door behind me. To the left, right, up the stairs and left again, I reach my door. I open it with a bang, making sure the bitch's screams alert Alice of her presence.

I throw her on the floor, as I walk to the next table and drag it next to Alice's. Making sure that bitch is strapped securely and that Alice's eyes are on the girl, I begin again.

"What's your name, rat?" I ask while ripping her clothes off. After all, I need to be prepared for everything.

"Ma- Maria," she stutters through her cries.

"Well, Ma-Maria... Alice here has decided that she wants company." I gesture towards Alice whose eyes seem to follow Maria now, but not enough to please me.

"Are you ready to talk, Alice. Or am I going to have to drag the words out of you?"

Her silence is answer enough as I contemplate what to do with the rat on the table. Her pain tolerance is laughable, not even note worthy. I decide to play fears again, my favorite game. I grab one of the jars located at the far side of the room and slowly jiggle it wake up my friends. I place the jar above Maria's face so she can see it's contents. Her eyes widen comically, but it's Alice's reaction the one I crave, the one I seek. I jiggle the jar some more, agitating the creatures. Their little brown bodies curve into small balls as their many feet flutter in different directions; the rat's eyes never leave my movements.

"These, Ma-Maria, are called Dermestid Beetles. These beetles are special because they do a very important job. These are actually our best ally when it comes to cleaning up messes. You see, Ma-Maria, these little guys are flesh eating beetles."

_No need to tell her that they only feed on dead, decomposing animal meat. They won't hurt her, just make a lot of noise as they move around._

I look away from Alice as the rat on the table begins to thrash around. I roll my eyes at her wasted effort. Don't they know it's futile, that they might as well believe they're dead already?

I put the jar down directly in Alice's sight as I buckle down Maria's head to the table so that she is looking at Alice. I grab the piece of tape I had prepared and put it on my wrist for later. I lean down, close to Maria's ear and whisper. "Make Alice react and I'll let you leave."

I watch in interest as the rat cries, screams, begs, wails, does everything in her power to make Alice react. I tilt my head to the side as Alice looks at the beetles squirm inside the jar and then returns her gaze back to the rat, uncaring.

_Well, if she doesn't care, than why should I?_

"You made me do this, Alice. I warned you."

I open the jar and pull a lone beetle with a pair of long tweezers. I set the jar on the side, away from the table and lean over the rat's body. With careful precision, I lower the beetle down the rat's ear so that she is able to hear the insect's many feet move.

"Did you know that small insects like spiders, beetles ants, and moths crawl inside the ear while we sleep at night? That most of the time we never know about it. Don't even get me started on how many we eat at night too. Would you like to be the first person to experience it while you are awake? I'm curious to know what happens," I taunt her.

Her thrashing intensifies along with her cries; I wait for Alice to react but nothing happens. I shrug, knowing that I gave her ample warning. I lower the beetle all the way and tuck it in inside her ear. I grab another beetle and lower that one inside too. I then tape the ear canal for good measure.

I hear screams every day, even more in my dreams; but I've never heard screams like the ones she 's doing. They're hysterical, out of the normal of what a human can do. Her body becomes flushed, wet with all kinds of body fluids. Her eyes roll back and her body begins to seize. For a moment, I feel something I've never felt before … regret. Did I put in too many beetles? Did I go too far in her fears? My intention had only been to scare her, not inflict physical pain, or death. Is this what James feels when he works? What ever the reason to cause the feelings, doesn't matter, the feeling is still there.

The girl slowly starts to fade away, and for a moment, Alice begins to stir. I watch in fascination as her eyes widen, and then slowly start to close into slits. She looks mad, jealous. But what is she jealous about? Does she enjoy the pain that much that she would prefer James? And then it hits me, Maria is slowly fading, slowly dying and Alice is jealous of that.

I become enraged at the thought that she would leave, leave me alone in this purgatory to never feel anything again. Without thinking it through, I remove the tape and insects, throwing them carelessly on the floor and begin chest compressions on Maria. Thirty chest compressions to two breaths in the mouth, repeat one more time and then check for pulse. I keep eye contact with Alice while I work because I have never seen her look like that before, looking at me like that. I continue the compressions on Maria, hitting her chest harder than it needs to be.

"Fuck!" I yell.

Press... Press... Press...

"Shit!"

Press... Press... Press...Breath... Breath... Check for pulse... nothing … panic starts to set it. And then she breaths, her pulse is weak and slow.

I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer. I am not like James, like my father.

I step back and look at Maria, relieved that I did not make the same mistakes that James had. I'm not a killer, I make mistakes, but I'm not a killer. Her pulse is weak and I'm not sure she'll make it through the night, but for now, she's still alive.

Alice is still staring at me. I realize today that Alice wants to die, she wants to leave. I also realize that is not possible, that it's never going to happen. Maybe having feelings isn't so bad, maybe being vulnerable once in a while is okay. I make a vow, to do what ever is in my power to protect her, and make sure that she survives, because if she doesn't I'll follow.

"Even in death I'll be there."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**A/N: Hello guys! I would like to say thank you, I was blown away by the response the last chapter received. We got a lot of mixed signals, should Alice die or not? This one will probably confuse people as to how to feel towards the men, but please keep an open mind. This chapter was written by helluvabell, and we spent days editing. She's pretty tired of it. LOL. So please review and let us know what you guys think. Thank you. **

**Warning:** Contains subject not suitable for minors. Characters opinions belong to them and do not represent that of the authors. There is foul language and things that some might consider taboo. Read at your own discretion.

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><p><strong>Carlisle POV<strong>

Twenty-two years ago I returned home from a long day at the hospital. To this day, I can't recall what made me hit my scotch that night, but whatever it was, caused me to drink more than half the bottle. I also don't recall going to Esme's house that night, but I woke up there with a young Esme, bruised and huddled in the corner.

"Pass the gravy," James mutters.

My family is eating at our large circular table because Esme doesn't want any of our sons to feel less important than their brothers. I suppose seat placement around a rectangular table could cause feelings of inferiority. We wouldn't want to add that to the long list of ways our sons are fucked up.

"Is the chicken dry?"

I look at my wife, the woman I forced myself on all those years ago in my drunken haze, and say, "The chicken tastes wonderful, dear."

"It's dry," James responds while covering his in an obscene amount of gravy. He probably doesn't need that much. He just wants to make of show of another way his mother doesn't meet his standards. _Little shit._

Esme smiles sadly but doesn't apologize like I thought she would. She hates to disappoint any of our sons, especially James. "Jasper, you need more protein. If the chicken is too dry, I can have one of the staff get you something else. But I want you to eat more meat; you're too scrawny."

Jasper says nothing but serves himself another portion of the dry chicken. I don't have it in me to explain that because of Jasper's metabolism, he will most likely stay the shape he's in. Jasper won't eat it because his stomach is telling him he's full. Instead, when Esme is distracted he'll slide the added food to Emmett's plate. It's the same thing every night.

There are no servants present in the dining room during dinner. We have our reasons.

Esme swirls the wine in her glass and says, "I hear all but four of the girls have been replaced. Which ones remained?"

None of my sons are in a hurry to answer, so I say, "Alice, Isabella, Rosalie, and Tanya."

My wife snorts before saying, "Might as well replace them all."

The air in the room becomes charged and I look at each of my sons, gauging their reactions. Esme seems to do the same because she says, "I hear the girls that weren't replaced aren't making my son's happy. Bella is the only one I would consider keeping, but she's too thin now. Is her pussy still tight enough, Edward?"

Edward's jaw clenches, but he still nods his head. I sigh into my wine glass because I hate the kind of dinner conversation that usually pops up.

"So she makes you happy?" Nothing from Edward; he concentrates on the food he's pushing around on his plate. I can tell he's uncomfortable with her questions. Who wouldn't be? "Tell me, just out of curiosity, do you like her nice and wet for you, or do you prefer a rough entry?"

"Esme! That's enough," I say, slamming my hand on the table.

"Don't you fucking talk to her like that," James says to me with nothing but loathing in his eyes.

"Boys, boys, it's okay," Esme says as she reaches over to gently pat the side of James' face. She slides her hand down his arm and settles it in his lap. James smiles at his mother and I shake my head. I notice the others aren't bothered by my outburst like Esme assumes. "Your father doesn't want me to set off Anthony."

We all resume eating our baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and grilled asparagus. The only sounds come from knifes scraping against plates and the thunk of wine glasses being set down.

Esme, tired of the lack of conversation, turns her attention to Jasper and says, "What about Alice? She's been with us the longest. Have you had your fill of her?" Unwilling to speak, Jasper gives a subtle little head shake. "No?" Esme asks, feigning ignorance. "But little Alice hasn't screamed for you in some time. Maybe we could find one that resembles her, one that will scream the way you like it."

"I'm not finished with her," Jasper growls. "I'm still trying things out."

Forks stop midway between plates and mouths, all eyes on my adoptive son. Esme won't get rid of Alice because of this exact reason. Alice is the only catalyst for Jasper's interaction with us. Before Esme gave her to Jasper, he was quiet and indifferent to everything. We don't know why he came to us that way. Therapy was a damn waste of money because how could anybody help a kid that won't talk?

"Is that the reason for James' dead toy?"

The girl named Maria couldn't be saved. When Jasper brought me to her and explained what happened, I knew there was no way she could come back from that. That he even bothered with resuscitation baffled me, not from a moral standpoint but from a logical one.

"She suffered no physical pain until her heart gave out. Besides, the rat was replaceable," Jasper says shortly before popping a piece of asparagus into his mouth.

He doesn't like talking to Esme. When we first brought him home, it was me he was weary of. That unease shifted to Esme when he saw and experienced her lack of regard concerning physical boundaries. Sitting placement is still important no matter how the table is shaped. Esme is planked by Emmett and James, and I always sit between Edward and Jasper. This way Jasper won't have to feel her unwanted touches.

Realizing she won't get more from Jasper, Esme says, "James, dear. How are the new replacements working out for you?"

"Good," he says around the food in his mouth.

"Honey, why did you decide to keep Tammy?"

"Tanya," Edward mumbles, rolling his eyes.

"What was that, dear?"

"The toy; her name is Tanya," James explains.

"Oh, right. Forgive me, I haven't spent anytime with her. You keep occupying it all," she says to James with a sly smile. "Why don't you spend more time with some of the replacements."

James shrugs his shoulders and says, "I like the way this one screams and fights back."

My wife fights down her ire, and I try to hide my smirk. She created the monster and although I have and will do anything for the woman to make-up for the pain and humiliation I caused her, I like to see her struggle with the asshole she birthed. It's her fault he turned out the way he did, always spoiling him the way she does. It's no surprise he ended up being a demented, narcissistic, little bastard.

Esme sighs impatiently before saying, "I'm trying to be tactful, but you just won't let me, will you? How can she possibly give you a good hand job with three missing fingers?"

I hate to agree with my wife on things of this matter, but Tanya is a lot of work. I don't know why he cut of her fingers. It's not like he does that with all of his girls. All I know is I get tired of patching up the girls he maims. I'm tired of the screams caused by pain, the flinching from scared and broken girls, but most of all, I'm tired of the joy he gets from them.

James throws back his head in laughter, and Esme smiles at her favorite son. She'll never admit it out loud, but her actions speak loud enough. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jasper quickly toss his chicken onto Emmett's plate while Esme was busy watching her true son laugh.

Esme hums and turns to Emmett. She eyes him for a few seconds before saying, "I don't like Rose."

"Well Esme, she's not here to make you happy; she's here to make our son happy," I say, my voice a warning. I know Emmett has a thing for the girl; hell, we all see it. A pounding starts in my head and I switch from wine to water. Over the years I've tried to counter some of the manipulations my wife has forced on our sons. What she's doing is similar to giving a child a toy, waiting for the child's attachment, then ripping the toy out of the child's hands.

"That's my point exactly, Carlisle. She's not fulfilling her purpose like she used to. Maybe we could go to the containment center and find you a teen mother, Emmett. I think you would like a girl who lactates." She strokes Emmett's forearm while cooing, "Big tits filled with milk to nourish a growing boy."

I turn back to my meal, unable to watch her inappropriate behavior. She knows Emmett has mommy issues. She first saw Emmett when she came to see me at the hospital. He was being held for observation because of the trauma he had experienced. His mother hung herself while leaving a six-year-old Emmett in the bath tub.

Did any of that stop Esme? No, because there's something wrong with my wife. I blame myself, blame what I did to her twenty-two years ago. I know she never sexually molests any of our children, but she has extreme boundary issues. In both physical aspects and conversation.

"Rose more than satisfies me, Esme," Emmett says quietly, squirming in his seat. "A replacement won't be necessary."

Her eyes narrow and she turns her attention to her meal. I know she doesn't like Rose. In a twisted way, Esme sees herself as the girls' caretaker instead of captor. She befriends them and tells them that she can't help them to escape because she's being watched. Of course the girls believe her and start seeing her as a person to turn to for comfort.

Rose sees right through the act, and worse, she fills the role of protector and offers comfort to both Alice and Bella. It's likely they trust Rose more than my wife, and that's why Esme hates her- she's jealous.

"Esme, have you ever thought that keeping Rose is a good thing because she protects Alice and Bella from the other girls." Both Edward and Jasper slightly tilt their heads to the side, trying and failing to hiding their interest. "We're not in that room. We don't know what's said or done when we're not there. And I thought you liked Bella, thought you were starting to see her as the daughter you never had."

"I _do_ like Bella, but our sons' dicks run on the larger side. I just want to make sure Edward is happy with the tightness of Bella's little cunt. With the way Anthony fucks her, I wouldn't be surprised if her pussy is all stretched out."

I sigh and lean back in my chair. I could explain to her the elasticity of the female sex. I could mention that, like Rose, Bella is not there to satisfy her, but instead I say, "Can we please talk about something else?" I don't have to look at Edward to know his face is red in anger. He hates hearing about the things "Anthony" does.

Esme daintily uses her napkin to clean her mouth before saying, "Carlisle, aren't there any drugs that could induce lactation. Maybe we could put Rose on it. Maybe Emmett will enjoy her more if he can suckle while he's fucking her."

"Fuck! What is wrong with you?" James asks, facing Emmett.

_Like he's one to talk._

"Can I be excused?" Emmett says, his fists clenched on the table.

"No, you haven't even touched your chicken." She turns back to me, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, there are. The boys were right, this chicken is a little dry, and I've lost my appetite. If you boys are finished, I want you to come with me so we can run tests," I say, standing from the table.

My sons push away from the table, and as we're leaving I hear Esme say, "Good, I want to make sure those little sluts haven't infected our boys."

None of say anything, but James finds it funny. God, I hate that kid.

We head up to the left wing and toward the infirmary I had set-up there. It is nothing impressive. A bed is tucked in the corner, a sink and counter against the wall, a scale to monitor the girls' weight in another corner, and of course a locked cabinet that holds all of my supplies.

"James first," I say, digging for the cabinet keys in my pocket.

He hops up on the counter while I wash my hands. After I gather everything I need, I start with my birth son. I quickly wrap the tourniquet around his arm, amused that he flinches as the latex snaps against his skin. This is my son, from my own blood- a coward and a bully. Heaven forbid he actually feel any pain. This is why I love him _only_ because he's my son, unlike my love for his brothers.

"Can we hurry this up? I want to go play with my new toys," James huffs. He shoots a calculating look at his brother and says, "Want to join me, Edward? We haven't shared a girl since your first. We can even play with your Bella."

I nearly drop the alcohol swab that I am using to clean James' arm when I see Emmett quickly wrap is arms around Edward's lunging body. James gets a good laugh while Emmett struggles to pull Edward out of the room, but his laughter turns to a hiss when I jab him with the needle. I'm usually not so rough, but then again my patients usually aren't sadistic bastards.

After peeing in a cup for me, James makes sure to slam his shoulder into me as he heads for the door.

"Cocky little prick," I mutter after he slams the door shut.

I hear something that resembles a snort and turn to see that Jasper hasn't left with his other brothers like I originally thought. He's so quiet, it's easy to make that mistake. Something tells me my son actually likes it that way.

Quickly disposing of the nitrile gloves, I repeat the process of drawing blood on Jasper. The only difference is the experience won't leave this son bruise. "Jasper, can I ask you a question?"

I see his body tense and I quickly say, "Don't worry, you don't have to answer anything if it makes you uncomfortable." I wait for him to relax and give me a head nod before I say, "Was what happened to Maria intentional?"

His brow furrows, and after a beat of silence he whispers, "No, that was... an accident."

I nod my head, understanding that my son is trying to work through what happened today. If he wanted to kill Maria, he wouldn't have given her CPR and he certainly wouldn't have called me in to treat her. Things are getting out of hand. This place isn't good for my sons. It is an environment that fosters anger and hostility, a breeding ground for depravity.

All four of them have serious psychological issues. James is too far gone, but the others can still be helped. It's this _place_... and me... and certainly Esme.

Just as Jasper disappears into the restroom off to the side with sample cup in hand, Emmett returns without Edward. "Sorry Dad, he took off."

I smile at him reassuringly and ask him if he's ready. He follows me to the counter and waits for me to wash my hands before he says, "Hey Dad, those pills Esme talked about... are they dangerous?"

I finish drawing his blood before giving this conversation my full attention. "Dangerous- no. Can they cause her pain? Yes. If you do this, she will need to be milked every three hours. You'll have to wake up in the middle of the night to milk. If you wait longer than that you risk engorgement and clogged milk ducts."

"Engorgement? Like they'll be bigger?" he asks, holding his hands out in front of his pectorals.

"It's not as pleasant as it sound. They will be heavy, uncomfortable-"

"Painful," Emmett says softly.

"Then there are cracked nipples."

"Her nipples can crack?" I nod my head, and Emmett shakes his head, saying, "But I like her nipples."

I take a deep breath and say, "Emmett, are you interested in pursuing this, changing her body in such a drastic way to satisfy your sexual needs and lifestyle?"

"No," he says, looking at the cabinet. "I don't want her to be in pain. And if I do this she'll hate me. I think... I think at best she tolerates what we do, but I think this would cause her to hate me, if she doesn't already."

He has a sad smile on his face, just a hint of his dimples. Sometimes I really do believe he's a child.

"You care about her feelings."

He shrugs his shoulders and says, "Rose isn't like the others. She's not afraid of me. It's crazy, but sometimes I think she could love me."

Stockholm syndrome has always been expected, but Lima syndrome never entered my mind. Both Jasper and Emmett leave their samples with me, and I spend another hour in the infirmary, thinking.

Edward tries to make up for everything Anthony inflicts on Bella. He, like most males, thinks things can be made better with food. In the past I've seen him leave the kitchen with large platters of food, but Bella's malnutrition suggests that between the kitchen and the left wing he changes his mind.

Jasper does not or cannot make Alice scream. I don't know if it is because she has found a way to block out what he does, or if it is because he is developing feelings for her. I _do_ know he is not physically hurting her.

Then there's Emmett. I worry about him the most. The things he does with Rose is more of a balm to soothe his childhood trauma. Mentally reverting to a younger age is how Emmett copes with everything. If any of my sons show the beginnings of Lima syndrome it's him.

I want them to sympathize with the girls. I never agreed to bringing the girls in, but James' sick tendencies make it hard to stay in one town for very long. Esme, being the wonderful, doting mother she is, discovered the containment center where girls and boys are sold. She indulges in him too damn much.

But the problem now is if the Lima progresses, Emmett and possibly one of his brothers will get it in their heads that freeing the girls is what's best, and it is. It's morally right and extremely humane, but the first things the girls will do is go to the authorities.

My sons don't deserve to be punished for the life Esme gave them. They don't deserve to be clumped with James. James has no excuse for doing the things he does- he's cruel and twisted. He takes perverse pleasure in harming and raping the girls.

This place is not good for my sons.

I need to do something.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **So, first of all thank you for all of the amazing reviews, add ons to favorite and alert lists. The support has been truly amazing. We read everyone of the reviews and it amazes us how much you guys like the story. Helluvabell was telling me how surprised she was at the reaction you guys had towards Carlisle. We expected hell towards Esme and James but not really Carlisle. Goes to show, you guys surprise us with your POV's and thus give us ideas for future material. So Thank You. So this chapter was written by yours truly, and I posted as soon as possible because I can't wait for you guys to read what helluvabell has in store for the next chapter... can't fucking wait. Thank you, Please Review!

**Warning:** This chapter contains material that is not suitable for a young audience. The opinions of the characters are solely theirs and do not reflect those of the author's. Oh, and bad language... LOL. Enjoy.

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><p><strong>EPOV<strong>

Fucking James! Fucking James and his games. Fucking Esme and all her inappropriate motherly touches. Fucking Emmett and his 'little' complex. Fucking Jasper and his fucking mind games. Fucking Carlisle for doing nothing. Just... fuck... Fuck everything!

My life isn't supposed to be like this... this fucking hell hole. I should be finishing high school, partying, getting drunk with the football team, or even having unemotional sex with the sorority girls from the nearby college. My parents should be home, proud that their little boy is following in the footsteps of his dad. But no, instead I'm here and I don't see a fucking way out.

_Fan-fuckin'-tastic!_

I was a normal kid with normal parents and normal everything... until a car accident took them away from me. My parents both came from families where they were the only child. My grand parents had already passed away and when my parents followed, I was literally left alone. How I wish that would have been true.

Who knew that Aunt Esme would be around the corner? She came out of nowhere. One day I'm crying my little eyes out inside a hospital's private room because my parents are dead, next thing I know I have a long lost Aunt Esme – half sister to my mom – and all of a sudden I'm brought into this fucked up family.

Funny thing is, Esme is not my aunt. Never was, but she thinks she is my mom. The same thing happened to Emmett; she saw him in the hospital and next thing he knows is that she's a long lost relative adopting him into her home. And Jasper? Long lost aunt also. Crazy bitch.

I couldn't say, "_Don't adopt me_;" it wasn't like little me knew any better. I only knew that the nice lady was my aunt and wanted me with her. Things were good in the beginning, as good as they could be with dead parents and new surroundings. It wasn't until I was introduced to my new 'brothers' that things started to change.

Growing up I had discipline, knew about right or wrong, consequences. Those easy concepts that are ingrained into the mind of kids until they're kicked out into the real world somehow didn't have the same meaning for the Cullen family.

James, that little bastard, should have been killed when he was born. How does a kid that kidnaps the neighbor's animals to torture and burn them alive deserve any kind of praise? "Oh my Jimmy, look at you, putting them out of their misery. Such a good boy." Or my favorite... "My James, that girl should have never tempted you by flaunting her cunt like that. She deserved it, honey. Here, have a cookie."

**Yes, James. Have a cookie and fucking choke on it.**

I went from a steady home with love to an unbalanced house of horrors. We ended up moving from town to city and back to other towns because of James' indiscretions. We would move before the finger could be pointed, only to start again and wait for the next cunt to show herself, because it was obvious she was around— they always are.

When things happen around you, you become immune to them to the point that you sometimes find yourself doing them and then wonder, 'When did I become like them?' I know when it happened to me. When I turned fifteen and Esme decided that I needed to become a man. That was the first day I met Anthony.

Esme became tired with moving around constantly. The idea to buy girls for James and keep them in a controlled environment was all her. Carlisle didn't agree and said he would not have any part in it. But she kept telling him that he owed her, that it was his fault she was a dirty whore. He caved like always but still would not help her. She got in contact with some shady people that trafficked kidnapped girls for slavery and the sex trade and soon made her first purchase, Alice.

Alice became James' first toy, which he enjoyed immensely at first but then became exasperated with her, said she was damaged. When Esme mentioned that it was time I became a man and Carlisle was again nowhere to be found, she borrowed Alice from James to help me with the deed. When Jasper saw Alice in my room he talked like if he always had, instead of being a mute for the past eight years I'd known him. Esme, being delighted, gave Alice immediately to him.

Next came the second toy for James, Madge... no, Marla? Maggie.

I didn't know what the fuck to do and I was seriously panicking. I knew Esme was somewhere near and she would check to make sure the deed was done. I didn't even want to think about what she would do if I didn't, so I finally caved in and got started. I didn't even know James was in the room when he began to make comments about her tits. There we were, both naked and me mid-thrust and he's talking about her tits while sitting down on the bed next to us. He continued to talk about her pussy being tight and her ass even tighter. I was disgusted with myself and I wanted to stop. My erection started to fail, but then I made the mistake and actually looked at her tits instead of her face and they were just like he described.

My erection came back full force and then some. James noticed like the bastard he was and continued making crude remarks. I became more turned on, listening to him talk about the girl I was fucking, disgusted at myself but not finding the will to actually stop. She was wet, aroused and about to come along with me. Just as I tensed and started to shoot my load, James wrapped his hands around her neck and began choking her. I didn't think he would actually kill her and neither did she because it triggered another orgasm for her. Everything was fine until she stopped moving, including her heart.

Realizing that I had just fucked a girl while he killed her literally broke down all my mental walls I had build up to protect myself from everything I had seen. This was too much, even for me. I became consumed with the fucking guilt. How could I have been turned on by that shit? Why did I continue to fuck her once I knew he was there to begin with?

**Because, Eddie, you're a fucking monster, just like all of us.**

That was when I first heard Anthony, my double. I thought I was going crazy so I ignored it, ignored him. But anytime things got bad, he would take over. I found myself missing periods of time, not knowing what had happened between certain hours. When Emmett asked if he could borrow my girl, I freaked out. What girl was he talking about? I didn't have a girl. That's when he took me to a dungeon like room where a bunch of girls were kept locked inside.

"That one's yours," he says, pointing to the redhead.

I didn't understand how she was mine. Jasper had Alice, James had the rest, right? When did she become mine? That night, I lost three hours of my time. I woke up in a room that resembled a morgue. I was naked and disoriented. There was a pounding noise in my head and I was dizzy.

_Where the hell am I,_ I thought.

**Welcome, Eddie. Took you long enough.**

_Who the fuck is that? _I looked around for the source of the voice, thinking that James was fucking with my mind; I came up empty.

**You're pretty, but stupid.**

Took me even longer to realize the other voice was inside my head.

The pounding got louder and it was actually coming from inside a door to the end of the wall. When I opened the door, I was pushed down to the floor by the naked redhead I had seen earlier. She was beaten badly with cuts that ran from her neck down her torso and legs. She had bruises all over her body, especially around her naked hips and breasts, resembling fingers. There were scratches on her back that were very deep and a chunk of her hair was missing.

She ran around in circles screaming out of her mind. Everyone ran into the room to see what the noise was about and found me on the floor with the crazy girl still running around. James grabbed her around the waist and tied her down to a table. They asked me what was wrong but I didn't remember anything.

**I fucked her good, brother. Showed the bitch who's in charge.** **Too bad you couldn't see it.**

When I leaned over her body to check her face, she noticed me and screamed as if her life depended on it. She thrashed on the table, making her bonds cut into her skin. "Keep him away, keep him away," she kept shouting. "Keep Anthony away."

Carlisle ran tests that night and diagnosed me with dissociative identity disorder; in other words, a split personality disorder. _Fucking great_, I thought at the time, as if my life wasn't filled with shitty problems already. Now, I was part of the problem rather than a spectator, there was no way out now.

I didn't think so until I met Bella.

The second I saw her inside the holding cell, I knew I had to have her and so did Anthony. It has become a power of will against myself. I want to protect her, a feeling a have not felt since I was a little kid. But he wants to possess her.

Esme is becoming more interested in her, something even Anthony is noticing. The dinner earlier today is only strengthening my desire to leave, leave and never turn a second glance behind me. But how do I leave when the only person that matters to me belongs to someone else?

**No, she belongs to me! Not her, and not you. ME!**

_Shut up!_

I grab my head as I stomp my way back to my room. I just had to let fucking James' taunting get to me. I know better than to listen to that shit head because he knows my triggers. He knows that when I get mad my hold on Anthony breaks and he gets loose. James enjoys spending time with Anthony. I might not see or remember what it is he does with Anthony, but that doesn't mean I don't dream some of the things they have done, especially when it comes to re-enacting that first time.

**Come on, Eddie. Don't you want to know how I wrap that pussy on my cock and make her scream my name?**

_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!_ I continue to pound my head, trying to erase that voice from inside.

"Yo, Edward! Wait up, man."

I continue to walk and ignore Emmett. I don't have anything against him personally, but I also don't want to sit down and explain to him again why I let James get to me. It's not as if I can control him. I also don't want to snap at Emmett, it's not his fault either that my temper gets the best of me. I need to relax and there is only one person who can help me with that.

The last time I saw Bella things went bad. I tried to give her food to nourish her body as a sorry that I can't do better for her because if I do try to get her out, they'll kill us both. I don't care if I die, but the least I can do is keep her alive. When she mentioned the other girls being hungry I lost it. I couldn't control Anthony taking over.

_I should take some food to her._

**Don't you always take her some food? **His tone is laced with sarcasm. **You're going to make her fat.**

_I just want her healthy. She's not fat, she's too skinny_, I think in her defense. It isn't her fault that Esme controls the food. Sneaking food to her is getting harder every time.

**Don't fatter her up, Eddie. Even better, go ahead. Give me a reason to pound it out of her later.**

I take deep breaths to control my emotions. He's trying to get me to loose it. He's trying to get me to set him loose. My breathing becomes labored with pain as images of Bella underneath me with her skirt scrunched up against her stomach flash in my head. She has her head thrown back and it's so obvious that she's enjoying having sex with me, with him, Anthony. But she is also drugged; I gave her the pill when I felt my hold on Anthony slipping, I didn't want her to remember him hurting her.

_Don't give in, don't give in._.. I keep chanting in my head.

The images change from Bella writhing in ecstasy to being held against a wall as I'm choking the air out of her lungs. Anthony laughs bitterly as the images continue to her passing out.

**Esme had her after. Don't you wonder what Esme did to her? What they did together?**

Just as I'm about to loose it, I realize I'm standing outside her door. I knock once and wait as I hear shuffling from inside, most likely the girls moving around to get away from us, just like they should. I pry the door open and automatically turn my head to the right, just where I know she'll be. She's standing with her back against the wall with a small quivering Alice slightly behind her. I'm surprised, very surprised because Bella has never really taken a protective stance against anyone before; not only that, but Alice seems to follow my every move, the vacant look in her eyes is gone. I briefly wonder what really happened with her and Jasper during their last session.

**Nothing you haven't done to her before, that's for sure.**

_I've never done anything to her._

**Of course you have... well, not you per se...**

Deep breaths, in and out, because I won't let him get to me, especially not in front of the girls, in front of Bella. I motion with my fingers for her to follow me, too scared to voice my request to her. She hesitates for a moment, her eyes widening like those of cartoon characters. She moves Alice's arms from around her waist and whispers something in her ear. Alice's body begins to shake as she slowly sinks down to the floor. Bella walks slowly towards me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. It kills me that she fears me, but in a twisted way, I want her to at least be aware of me.

_Fuck, she's getting too skinny_, I think to myself. Her skin looks almost stuck to her bones; there is a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead.

**Too skinny?** scoffs Anthony. **The bitch can still manage to loose some fat**.

_Shut the fuck up_!

Bella flinches away from me. "I... I... I did-didn't s-say anything."

I realize I said it out loud instead of inside my head. Anthony laughs his fucking his merry way as I reach my arms towards her body. "Shit, I never meant to say that out loud, not to you. I... uh...sorry..." I stop, realizing my mistake immediately. Not only did I apologize to her, but I did it in front of the girls.

**Yes, you fucking did, you moron. Now, I'll have to do some damage control later on.**

I ignore him as I wait for Bella to take my outstretched hand. She finally takes it and I lead her out, closing the door behind us. I feel my body instantly relax, knowing that she's near me, that she's okay... for now. I quickly contemplate where to take her and finally decide on the safest room available—my room. I guide her to a room that is furnished to look like a regular bedroom and gently lead her to a sofa on the opposite side of the bed. I want her to feel comfortable, as comfortable as can be in this situation. I sit down next to her, enough space to be close and yet not overwhelming.

"Are you hungry?" I blurt out.

**Nice one, Eddie, 'cause food is all you ever think about**, he mocks as he laughs.

"I, uh...," she looks around nervously. "A little," she whispers, afraid that someone might hear us.

I stand up and walk to the small refrigerator, disguised as small table beside the bed. I open it and grab a small orange juice pouch and some left over cookies. I make a mental note to bring food for her later to store in the small fridge. I give her my offerings and wait as she devours the contents within a minute. I feel pain in my chest to think about her being hungry and hurt. I make a vow to help her as much as possible because she makes me feel feelings that were once forgotten, she makes me feel human.

"I'm sorry, I don't have more right now but I'll bring you some more soon. Okay?"

She looks at me incredulously, as if waiting for the punch line. _My God, what have I done to her?_

**Oh, you've fucked her nice and hard, beaten her, humiliated her...**

I close my eyes and do everything in my power to tune his fucking voice out._ Don't loose it, don't loose it..._ I think of ways that I can start to make it up to her, ways to show her that I'm sorry I can't do better but that I at least want to try... I think and think... and then it comes to me. I can at least provide comfort; I can leave her here in this room. The room is a normal room with a bed, sofa, and a small bathroom; it has nothing too elaborate or expensive, but I'm sure anything is better than the shit hole she shares with the rest of them.

"Bella?" I wait for her to look me in the eyes. "How... how would you like to come live here?" She looks at me questioningly, so I continue. "In this room. Would you like to move in this room?"

I see as her eyes light up for just a second as she looks around, but the light fades as she focuses on the bed. She starts to shake and I see as her eyes glaze over. _Shit! What the fuck did I say?_ Then it hits me, she probably thinks I brought her in to have sex with her, why she keeps looking at the bed. "No, no, no... Bella, look at me." I grab her chin and force her eyes on my own. "Just you, Sweetheart. I'm not going to stay here with you. This will be your room."

Her shaking slows down to a complete stop as she stares at my eyes, probably looking for any deceit. "What about... what about Rosalie and Alice? I can't leave them there. I... I...I do-don't want to leave them." She pauses for a second as she thinks of something else. "What about Anthony," she whispers.

**Yeah, fuck face! What about me? You're making it easier for me, Eddie. Leaving her inside a room with a bed, a shower... all the things I can do in there...**

I think of a way to keep protecting her but keep her away from Anthony at the same time. How can I protect her against myself? No, not against myself because that asshole is not me.

"You let me worry about him, but I promise you, he won't touch you again."

She looks down before shyly asking again, "What about Rosalie and Alice? Can they please, please stay with me, please, please...?"

I can't take it anymore. I stand abruptly and walk to the door without looking back. "I'll see what I can do. Please don't try to open the door because I'm going to lock it before I leave. There is another juice in refrigerator for you. Drink it."

I leave the room, lock it, and quickly walk down the hall towards Carlisle's office where I know he's waiting for me. I needed to leave. I can feel Anthony slowly taking over. Her pleading was getting to me slowly, allowing my hold on him to loosen. I make it to his office, gasping for breath as I basically throw the key at his chest.

"Bella is in the room; give her food; don't give him the key!"

"Son?"

"Don't give him the key!" I plead through Anthony's laughter, just as everything goes dark.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:Hi, guys! It's helluvabell. Mmsa and I want to thank everybody for reading and leaving us awesome reviews. This chapter was a collaboration with mmsa. Our brainstorming sessions usually happen after midnight, telling us that sleep is highly overrated since our chapters keep bringing you back. **

**-helluvabell**

**Warning: Contains subject not suitable for minors. Characters opinions belong to them and do not represent that of the authors. There is foul language and things that some might consider taboo. Read at your own discretion.**

* * *

><p><strong>RPOV<strong>

Bella has been gone for a day now. Usually if one of the guys decides to take her from the room, they return her within a few hours. I wasn't here when she was taken, so I can't tell for sure who it was that took her, and of course poor Alice won't say a word. I'm not angry at her; I'm irritated because I simply don't know. Did the guys hurt Bella to the extent that she needed Carlisle to patch her up?

I hear a loud sob coming from across the room. It's one of the "replacements". I shudder at the word that Bella used when she told me about her conversation with Esme. These new girls are too loud. I had gotten used to the stifling silence. These new girls will learn that it's best to stay quiet. Noise brings attention to yourself.

The door opens and only Alice, I, and two other girls are smart enough to scoot to the back wall. James struts in, and I wonder if the crying girl will be smart enough to stop. She's not, and he drags her away by the hair. I wonder how many girls will learn from her mistake.

Two days since I've seen Bella.

Emmett walks me down the hall, back to the girls' room. Today he asked if I want to stay in his room, but I don't want to leave Alice by herself. We pass by Jasper and Edward/Anthony who are talking in hushed voices, and Jasper is shaking his head at whatever Edward is saying. It's strange seeing them act so unguarded. I haven't seen Edward in a few days—not that I'm complaining.

It's change, and I don't trust change.

Emmett leaves me in the room, and as I make my way to Alice, my eyes settle on another change that I don't like. There's a new girl here, except she didn't come with the replacements. She came a day after the others did. She's pretty enough but that's not what has my attention. She keeps crying about her baby and how much she misses him. She's a new mother, and she won't stop crying, and I feel horrible when I want to tell her to shut-up and that she'll never see her baby again.

Carlisle comes every few hours for her milkings, and I'm pissed at myself for being happy that it's not Emmett who comes for her. That is why she's here, of that I have no doubt. My lip trembles and I worry for what seems like the hundredth time that they will soon be replacing me. Is that what will happen when Emmett finally has enough of me? Do I cry too much when I'm with him?

Is that what happened to Bella? Was she replaced? Did those bastards use her up to the point where she couldn't be used anymore?

Four days.

Four fucking days.

She's dead. Bella's dead and she's not coming back.

I wonder what happened to the other girls. Not that I care about those bitches, but a tiny part of me wants to know how close to death I came. I fucking deserve that much. I don't want to die, but not knowing their fate is plaguing me. Not knowing Bella's fate is plaguing me. Did she die while being violated by one of those sick fucks? Was she tortured and dismembered so James or Edward could get off? Was that our fate?

No. Not my fate. Fuck that.

I look down at Alice. She's not in the catatonic state she's usually in. She hasn't been that way for a couple days now. No, it's not going to be her fate either. Before, she was so far into her mind that a part of me thought that death would be better, but I don't believe that anymore.

I refuse to let that happen to me and to her. She is all I have and I will not let those sick assholes take her from me. I might have failed Bella but I won't fail Alice. I won't let them take her back to that dark place where she's scared and alone.

I feel the blood in my veins boil. My breathing is faster, deeper, and I squeeze Alice's hand when I feel her panicked response to my charged demeanor. I hope that I'm not scaring her, but I know I am when I feel her body start to tremble, her tiny hands yanking on my arm.

"It's okay, Alice. Everything will be okay." It's a lie. I know it and she knows it, but it still feels better to the both of us when I say it.

The door opens and all the girls scramble to the back wall except me. Crazy as it sounds, but whoever it is, is going to get one hell of a fight if they pick me. I want to rage at all of them. I want to hit and claw and scream my frustrations and anger at the sons-of-bitches that are keeping me here. How fucking dare they think that Rosalie-goddamn-Hale wouldn't go down without a fight.

It's Emmett, and he has no idea what he has walked into. He reaches for me and is shocked when I wrench my arm from his grasp and swing my fist at his face with as much force as I can muster. He reads my movements, and a split-second before my fist collides with his chin, he turns his head. The sound of my shriek surprises even me. He couldn't even find it in himself to stay still, and instead of the satisfying pain that should be radiating up my arm, I feel my knuckles brush against his cheek.

"You fucking bastard! You stupid... spineless... son of a whore!"

Emmett isn't even trying to restrain me. Instead, the asshole is blocking all of my hits, wearing a look of pity. Pity! I will not be pitied! Not by him, not by any of them.

My body is tiring, my muscles spasm because it has been months since I've worked out. I feel sweat dripping from my neck and down beneath my shirt. Too late, I realize this was his intention all along. He wants me to wear myself out so I can't fight back later.

I look around the room and notice the other girls standing around, shocked at what I dared to do. Alice's face is the one I settle on. She's shaking her head and mouthing the words, "Please stop," but nothing is coming out.

Emmett takes advantage of the distraction and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight so I can't move. It's not good enough because I immediately start thrashing around, screaming profanities about him and anyone related to him. He grunts when the back of my head connects with his chin, the hard click of his teeth spurring me further.

"What the fuck is going on?"

My actions only stop momentarily when I realize it's James talking. He grunts in pain when I kick my leg out and connect with the top of his thigh. "You sick, demented fuck! You like girls who fight back? Motherfucker, try me now!"

James hauls his hand back, but before he can touch me, Emmett flings my body to the ground.

"You will not touch her!"

I look up to see Emmett holding James' raised fist. Never before have I heard Emmett sound so threatening. His tone left little room for argument, and I know Emmett is squeezing the fist he's holding because James is wincing in pain. They do a weird little shift and separate, Emmett moving to stand in front of me.

"Just keep your bitch on a leash, Emmett. If she wants to play with me, and you're not around, I'll have a go at her," James growls.

"You weren't listening," Emmett says as he lifts me to my feet and flings me over his shoulder. At first I think he's talking to me, but then he turns to James and says, "You will never touch her. And if you ever do, the things you do to your toys will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you."

Emmett walks down the hall, but I can still hear the screams of a girl that James has chosen to take his anger out on. The fact that she screams tells me that it's not Alice. I don't care about the girl. I can't afford to care about her. I'm too busy caring about Alice and myself.

I hear hushed voices but it's not until Emmett passes them that I realize it is Edward and Jasper again. I struggle to get down, forcing Emmett to tighten his hold, but that doesn't stop me from shouting, "What the fuck did you do to Bella, you sadistic asshole? Did you fucking kill her? Do you hear me, you simple copper-headed motherfucker? You're a monster!"

Edward has his hands over his ears, and he's rocking on the soles of his feet while Jasper is slowly backing away from him with his hands raised. He says something to Edward, but it's Emmett I hear.

"Christ, Rosalie! Shut-up," he snaps as he delivers a sharp slap on my rear.

I can't help the yelp that escapes because it was hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. The sight of Jasper and Edward is replaced with the other end of the hall, and the feeling of dizziness confirms that Emmett is now backing away from them. I slump against his shoulder, feeling defeated and stupid because I didn't think of how my actions would affect Alice. If they get rid of me, who will take care of her?

I should have fought harder.

Emmett doesn't turn around until he reaches his room. He kicks the door shut behind us and sets me on my feet. Grabbing me by my arms, he starts shaking me while saying through clenched teeth, "Have you lost your fucking mind? Do you know the lengths I go through to keep you safe? What would make you do such a stupid, stupid thing?"

He drops to his knees, wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me to his body. The air in the room drifts across my face and hits the tears that were streaming down. I angrily wipe them away and I feel confused when I hear Emmett sniffling.

"Please don't cry," he whimpers.

My anger is stirred again because I know what he's about to do.

"No!" I tug his hair back so he can see my face as I say, "I don't want to deal with Emmy right now? Do you understand me, Emmett? It's not fair! You don't get to check out and leave me here to take care of a child. It's not fucking fair! I want answers. What happened to Bella? What happened to my friend, dammit?"

My fists come down on the biceps that are around me, my feet stomping in place, and I realize that I look like a child throwing a tantrum. Apparently I could care less because I don't stop my fit. He sighs before rising to his feet. I'm not surprised when he lifts me in his arms, bridal-style, and carries me to his bed. Carefully setting me down, Emmett lies down next to me before saying, "I'm pretty sure Edward has her. Relax, Rose. She's in a room like this."

Bella's alive; she's not dead. I blink the tears of relief from my eyes, and reality comes crashing down on me because, "She's still with that crazy fuck."

Emmett shakes his head, saying, "You don't understand. Edward doesn't want to hurt her."

He doesn't share more on what has happened but instead starts to nuzzle the crook of my neck while his right hand rub up and down my side. I sigh because it's hard for me to stay angry at Emmett right now.

He tells me that Bella is okay, and the funny thing is, I believe him. He let me scream my fury and allowed me to try to hit him without physically punishing me. I even hit James and instead of holding me in place for a strike I probably deserved, Emmett stood up for me.

His hand freezes at the sharp hiss through my teeth. Propping himself over me, he turns a concerned gaze at me before saying, "Rose?"

"I'm okay."

Of course he doesn't believe me. "Take off your pants."

He doesn't say it in a sexual way; in fact I know sex is probably furthest on his mind. I lift my hips off the bed and shimmy out of the lounge pants that some of the girls are allowed to wear. Emmett turns me on my side and I feel him place a soft kiss on my hip. I look at the place he's kissed and notice a bruise starting to form. It's from when he threw me to the ground to protect me from James.

"Babe, I'm so sorry," he whispers as he places another soft kiss on my flesh.

I like this Emmett, the kind gentle one and I know he doesn't like to see me hurt. The thing I can't figure out is what will happen to me—to us.

A knock on the door stops Emmett from his soft kisses and tender touches, and my body stiffens when Esme walks in, ushering in the new mommy.

The new mommy. How appropriate; I guess that makes me the old one.

"I was told it's time for Jennifer's milking. If you want, I can accompany Rose back to the room while you see to Jennifer's needs… and yours," Esme says the last part softly while looking to the side.

I reach for my pants, angry at the tears that are clouding my vision. I fucking knew it! It was only a matter of time.

"No," Emmett says, stopping me from covering myself.

"No? You want them both?" Esme says.

Emmett shakes his head and I feel him squirm under her scrutiny. And just like that, everything clicks into place. He is intimidated by her. I knew Esme couldn't be trusted. What the hell kind of power does she hold over him?

I slide my hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by Esme and I catch her glare at me before she can school her features. In a saccharine voice Esme says, "I'm not leaving Jennifer here alone with you."

Jennifer, the silly, stupid, naïve girl shuffles closer to Esme, her hands finding purchase in Esme's shirt sleeve. She thinks Esme is here, acting as a buffer between her and Emmett. I'm starting to believe Jennifer being here is all Esme's decision because Emmett sure as hell didn't bring her here.

Esme sighs at Emmett's lack of movement and I hate that this strong man is being bullied by this two-faced woman. She's sick if she thinks Emmett will enjoy this. She takes Jennifer's hand in hers, patting it while she says, "Do you really want her to end up like those other girls that didn't serve their purpose? Look at her, don't do that to her."

Only I can hear the whimper that comes from Emmett and I hate Esme with every fiber of my being. She's forcing Emmett to do this, guilting him with what will become of Jennifer if she isn't used for his pleasure. I move to straddle Emmett's lap and I whisper, "It's okay, Emmy. I'll take care of you. Just pretend they're not there."

His shoulders relax and he leans into the kisses I'm placing on his temple. I feel him stir beneath me and I know that it's not because of Jennifer or the things Esme is forcing him to do. He's getting excited because this is the first time that I've initiated our play. I block out the fact that we're not alone and work on Emmett's zipper.

He groans when I free him from his pants and slide onto him. "Mommy," he whispers in my ear and clutches me closer to him. "Don't leave me with them."

I rock my hips and coo in his ear, doing all the things I know he likes. He shifts us so I'm laying on my back with his head nestled against my chest as he pumps into me in earnest. My back arches and my hands thread through his hair, and I get lost in the feeling of him surrounding me.

I feel him flinch and scowl at Esme when I notice she's running a hand across his shoulder. "Don't touch him," I hiss.

Her face is blank with the exception of the hatred that's burning in her eyes. How anybody believes the kind act she puts on is beyond me. Without saying a word she tugs a now topless Jennifer closer to the bed. "She needs to be milked. Jennifer, climb into bed so all of this can be over with."

Emmett stops his thrusting and is shaking his head and tightening his grip around my waist. A tear rolls down my cheek when I feel him start to soften inside of me, and I hate Esme for doing this. I may not understand my feelings toward Emmett, but I know I don't like the reaction that Esme has caused. I hate bullies.

"Please, it hurts," Jennifer whimpers as she edges closer to Emmett.

He looks at me with such sad, blue eyes before taking a deep breath and leaning over to his side where he can latch onto her swollen breast. Emmett scoops her legs from beneath her and lays her gently next to me on the bed so he can nurses from her while laying on me. From here Esme can't see what he's doing. She can't see that Emmett is crying and that he's gone completely soft inside of me.

"Emmy, do you want to drink her milk?" I whisper in his ear, my voice cracking.

He pushes away from Jennifer and buries his head between my breasts, looking for the comfort I can give him and says, "No, Mommy. Please don't make me."

After placing a kiss on his forehead, I turn to Esme and with as much force as I can summon, say, "Get out. Emmy's not hungry. I suggest you have Carlisle milk her instead."

Esme knows she can't cause a scene by pressing the issue without looking like the horrid woman she truly is. Instead, she tugs Jennifer out of the room but not before leveling me a look and saying, "You'll be sorry you did that."

The room is quiet after the echo of the door slam dies. Emmett is trembling in my arms and I hate that Esme has reduced this strong man to the simpering person that is holding onto me for dear life. I make shushing noises and comb my fingers through his hair.

I had it wrong.

Emmett is not responsible for my imprisonment. He's a prisoner just like me.

The halls are empty as Emmett steers me toward Carlisle's office. He doesn't believe that I'm okay and wants the doctor to look at the bruise on my hip. When we make it to the office, he only has to knock once before the door is thrown open by a very tired looking Carlisle.

"Come in."

Emmett nudges me into the room while saying, "I wasn't sure if you would be up here."

Carlisle hands me a gown and says, "James was too rough with one of the girls and I just finished sewing her up and fixing what I could."

I'm thrown off at the hostility that rings in his words and wonder if he hates it so much, why doesn't he do anything to stop it? I briefly wonder if he too is a prisoner like the rest of us but shake it off. He's a doctor. He has power—the power to stop what happens here. He has the power to stop Esme's tyranny but lacks the courage to stand-up to the bitch.

As I'm putting on the paper-thin gown, Emmett says, "Can you take a look at Rose's hip? I dropped her and she fell on it pretty hard."

Carlisle's eyes flick over to me as Emmett lifts me onto the counter. There's a calculation in his eyes that I don't trust, and I know my instincts are correct when he says, "Emmett, go to the kitchen and get a bag of ice from the freezer. I used up all of my ice packs on James' mess."

Emmett nods his head and leaves me with this poor excuse for a man.

Carlisle shakes his head after Emmett leaves and moves to lift the gown I'm wearing. When he sees me flinch, he says, "Relax, girl; I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to take a look at the bruise Emmett was talking about."

I tense up when the air hits my skin, but Carlisle is quick with his observation. Placing the gown back in place, he says, "Ice should help."

"I told Emmett it was nothing serious," I say quietly.

Carlisle chuckles and says, "You don't see it, do you?" Instead of explaining what it is I should see, he starts pacing. Running his hand through his hair, he mutters, "None of you see it. But you'll do just fine."

Turning to me he says, "Rosalie, I don't have a lot of time, so you need to be quiet and listen to me."

My forehead scrunches, but before I could ask what he's talking about, Carlisle continues. "I have a proposition for you."

I hop of the counter and make a rush for the door. There's no doubt in my mind that his sick bitch of a wife probably sucks in the sack, and I have no desire to play doctor with Carlisle. Before I can reach the door, Carlisle grabs my arm and twists it painfully that I have no choice but to walk back to the counter with him.

His hand is covering my mouth and he whispers in my ear, "I don't want to hurt you, so don't make me. I'm not interested in you, so knock it off." He gives me a shove and I catch myself before I crash into the counter. He clears his throat before saying, "I'm going to help you escape but my help is conditional. Your first impulse will be to go to the authorities, but that is not an option."

I despise this man for everything he's done and not done, but most of all I hate him for dangling my freedom in front of me. I can feel my blood pressure start to rise and know I'm seconds away from punching him in the face, or at least trying to punch him in the face. "What about my friends? What about Bella and Alice? I'm not leaving them here?"

"They will be going with you but… so will my sons," he says, crossing his arms across his chest.

Sons…

Tonight is a night of revelations. They are all his sons and Esme is their mother. The girls are being kept here for this twisted family; the parents have been supplying us to their sons. That means Esme… God what she's doing to her own son… She was there, watching and wanting her son to use us. I turn and retch on the floor next to me. Wiping my mouth, I gasp, "Fuck that. I'm not going anywhere with James. Your whole family is sick. You're probably planning on getting rid of us just like the others."

Carlisle sighs and snatches several paper towels from the dispenser and goes to clean the mess I've made. "James isn't going with you. He's part of the problem."

"Problem," I snort, derisively.

"Yes, problem," he growls into my face. The quick movement startles me and I'm terrified by this crazed man before me. Up close I see he looks unkempt, his hair disheveled and days' worth of stubble on his jaw. "James and Esme are poisoning my other sons. This place is not healthy for them."

"I'm supposed to feel sorry for them?" I almost do with the perverse relationship Esme has with her sons, but dammit what about all the innocent girls that have suffered at their hands?

"I don't give a fuck how you feel, Rosalie. Just know this, my sons need help. Help that I can't give them here. You can stay or you can leave with them. The only reason I'm extending this offer to you is because I know if things continue the way they are, you won't last and Emmett might snap like his brothers. Esme hates you and I know you did something to piss James off."

He walks to the waste bin to throw away the paper towels and starts his pacing again. His fingers go through his hair in agitation and he says to himself, "We could do it tomorrow. Tomorrow James is going to the chamber; I could convince Esme to go with him. That could work… So much to do. I need to get things ready for them."

Them?

I don't even think he remembers I'm still in the room, and God help me because I'm starting to take him seriously. Licking my dried lips, I say, "Where will we go?"

He stops his pacing and looks surprised to see me. "I have a friend in Oregon. He's an old colleague that specializes in psychiatry. You'll be staying in a house I've acquired off the book with frequent visits from him. I hope it will repair some of the damage that my inactions have caused," he says, softly.

I want to laugh at him because nothing can undo what has been done here, but I won't ruin my chances of escape. "What do I do?"

"You take care of them, Rosalie."

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><p><strong>AN: So I know some of you aren't too happy about what went down with Rose. Feel free tovent but try not to hate. Let's hear it!**


	9. Chapter 9

Hello, readers! So, mmsa and I spent the better part of 3 hours last night playing "f, m, k" and we still managed to iron out the details of this chapter. That's right; this chapter was a joint effort! So we hope you enjoy another chapter of this twisted tale.

-helluvabell

**Warning**: This story is not suitable for minors… if you haven't noticed by now.

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><p><strong>BPOV<strong>

I don't know how long I've been here, in this room, or in this place. Does it matter? Do I really want to know? The good doctor comes in and leaves a tray of food at random times throughout day. He's the only I have seen.

I sigh. I miss little Alice, I miss Rosalie. I wonder how they are doing, if they are being treated badly. I hope that they've been lucky enough to not be chosen by James. James and Anthony have tried to come into the room I am staying in. I can tell which one of them is trying to get in by the way they act. James screams behind the door and calls me different names. Anthony has resorted to body slamming himself against the door. On those days, I hide in the bathroom. He has even gone as far as to pretend that he is Edward, but then I remember... if he was Edward, wouldn't he have the key?

I don't want to think.

My vision is clouded, my head is pounding, and my whole body shivers. I can't control the shivers. The nauseous feelings are always present, whether I eat or not, so... why am I still nauseous now that I'm eating?

My body shivers again and I wipe away the sweat from my forehead as I crawl from my place on the floor to the bed. I manage to lift my weak body off the floor, and using the small amount of strength left, I drag myself to the middle. I shiver more, sweat more, and pray some more, too.

_It has to work sometime_, I reason with myself, this praying business. I reason that someday, I will be heard by whoever is responsible to listen to prayers and I will soon feel better. Funny, I don't pray to be free, I pray to feel better.

I groan loudly as an enormous wave of nausea rolls from my stomach to my head. The dizziness is making me see the room spin before my eyes. I close them tightly, and for the seventh time since I last ate, I wish for Edward to come back, and make it go away.

**Carlisle POV**

This is not my son. His face is flushed red, the vein in his forehead pronounced.

"Give me that fucking key, old man!"

He slams his hand on the wall next to my head to drive in his point even though he knows it won't work. With the emergence of Anthony I was forced to learn self-defense techniques. He knows damn well I won't hesitate in laying him out. The first time he tried to put his hands on me, he made the mistake of thinking I wouldn't touch him because he looks like my son.

But this is not my son.

"You know I'm not going to give it to you. Bring Edward out," I say, calmly.

"Bella is mine! Not Edward's!" he screams in my face before taking off down the hall.

I wait until I can longer hear him before I head for the room Bella is being kept. The thing about Anthony is he likes his presence known, and that includes slamming doors and yelling at anybody who crosses his path. I received the key to the room after Rosalie yelled and provoked my son. Luckily Jasper was with him and Edward gave him the key to give to me. Usually it takes hours before Anthony can be contained, so I wasn't too surprised to see him.

The left wing consists of several rooms that we use so the boys will stay out of trouble. There is a room for Jasper to conduct his experiments on the durability of the human spirit. There is a room that James, and sometimes Anthony, uses for sadistic play with the girls. Fitted with shackles on the wall, the room is a place of nightmares, and I only enter it to retrieve whatever girl was unfortunate to capture James or Anthony's eye. And of course there is the room that I use to patch them all back together.

There are other rooms, too; rooms less terrifying than torture chambers and a clinic. Emmett has one where he can feel safe in his 'little' persona. And then there was this one.

I stand before an unassuming wooden door. It is strong, able to withstand Anthony's and James' attempts at breaking it down. Unfortunately they are not the only ones that enter who don't belong. I caught Esme, my dear wife, here with Bella once. She jumped away from a naked, passed-out Bella and a little voice in the back of my head told me Esme was no better than my sons. I had asked her what she was doing to Bella and reminded her that our sons don't even like to share the girls amongst themselves. She spat an insult at me reminding me that I had no right to comment on how she behaves sexually because it was my fault she had such loose morals. Apparently, a rape that took place over twenty years ago excuses the sexual molestation of a drugged and defenseless girl. Esme is no different than our sons, and ever since that day I keep a closer eye on her and the girls.

I unlock the door and find Bella shivering and lying on the floor. Closing the door behind me, I lift Bella into my arms. "Bella, do you need to use the restroom?"

"Rest... room?" she whispers.

I sigh while carrying the girl to the small room to the left. I turn my back to give her privacy but decide to stay in case she topples over. When she is finished, I groan because Bella has done nothing to wipe herself.

I see and treat these girls practically everyday. My position at the hospital is precarious at best because of all the time I request off, and I am certain the only reason I am still employed there is because of the affluence and power my wife and I have in the community. When I first requested a leave, they gave me a promotion and told me I could work whatever hours work best for me. We donate to charities and attend black tie events, but at the end of the day we come home and drop the pretense of benevolence that the outside world believes we possess.

I reach over Bella, her head slowly following my movement, and tear a bit of toilet paper off the roll. After bunching it up, I place it in her hand and tell her once she wipes herself, she can go to bed. Her body is shaking as she complies, and I go through a mental checklist of the symptoms she is displaying.

She's sweaty, shaky, and disorientated. Hell, the poor girl probably doesn't even know that it's night. I pass the untouched tray of food that was left for her on my way to the bed. Bella rolls over to her side and I halt in pulling a clean blanket over her when I hear her softly murmur Edward's name. If my suspicions are correct, they will have another obstacle to overcome to gain their freedom, but I do not have the time nor the resources to take care of this particular problem.

I quit the room, making sure to lock it on my way out. As I head back to my clinic, I run into Jasper who is heading for the girls' room. "Jasper." His pause is permission enough to continue, so I say, "Bring both Alice and _Edward_ to the locked room. I'll join you in a few minutes."

He doesn't ask questions, although I know he has them, and disappears down the hall. If anybody can pacify Anthony enough to bring Edward back, it's Jasper. Although Jasper knows all of Anthony's triggers, he is smart enough not to bring him out. I'm counting on Jasper not trusting Anthony around Alice to pull this off.

I hear screams coming from the room at the end of the hall and feel sickened that I'm grateful James is otherwise occupied. One girl wasn't enough after his earlier run-in with Rosalie. Whatever she did caused him to limp and my respect for her to grow. Esme on the other hand, came into the room when I was suturing the first girl that James chose. With her she had the teen mom that I told her not to get. Esme told me to take care of her milking before demanding a sleeping aid to go with her wine chaser.

At the time, I had handed a breast pump to the poor girl while her wide eyes were glued to the girl on the stainless steel table. Whenever one of the boys gets carried away, the table is dragged into the room for me to "operate" on. It leaves little space to move around so the teen mother was forced to watch me repair the damage that James had inflicted. She kept asking if that was going to happen to her and to calm her, I told her Emmett would never do what James had done. I didn't mention that that did not guarantee her safety.

I stop thinking of earlier events in the night and return to the clinic. It is free of the table, the maimed girl, and the terrified mother. Only Emmett and his Rose occupy the space now. "Follow me."

"Where are we going?" Rose asks, handing Emmett the ice pack that is being used to treat her bruised hip.

"I'm taking you to see Bella."

That's enough to motivate Rosalie and in her haste she steps on my heels a few times as we walk to the locked room. I try to push down my irritation, but the stress of what will happen in the next twelve hours causes me to turn on her. She jumps back at the frustration that's probably written across my face, and Emmett steps in front of her to shield her from the outburst I'm trying to contain.

After taking a calming breath, I say, "There is something you both need to be aware of. Bella is not well, so don't be surprised at the condition she's in."

"What did he do to her?" Rose hisses. She recognizes her mistake immediately because she shrinks behind Emmett. Rosalie is textbook in her belief that strength garners respect.

"Don't presume to take my help for weakness, Rosalie. I don't have to help you, and I sure as hell don't answer to you. It would be smart to hold your tongue and not piss off one person who can get you out of here," I growl.

"She didn't mean it, Dad. She's just tired," Emmett says, wrapping an arm around her.

Instead of responding, I turn around and head to the room where we find Jasper, Alice, and Edward waiting. No one talks as I dig around my pocket for the key and let us in the room. Rosalie immediately drags Alice to the bed where she hovers protectively over Bella while the guys wisely stay on the other side of the room. I nod for Emmett to close the door and smile when he has the good sense to stand in front of the door. James walking in would throw a monkey wrench into the whole damn thing.

No one's willing to ask what's going on, so I start off by saying, "You will listen to what I have to say, and your questions will be answered afterward because we don't have very much time before James finishes with his girl. Tomorrow morning all of you will be leaving in the Escalade. You will head north to Port Angeles and leave the car in the Fairchild Airport. When you get there, I want Jasper to go inside and purchase six tickets to Chicago under the names I will give to you in the morning."

"Ho—"

The glare I shoot Edward stops whatever question he was going to ask, and I let out an annoyed huff before continuing. "You will not be on that plane. Instead, I have arranged for you to take a car that is in a designated spot in the rental lot. I will give Emmett the slot number and the make and license plate number of the vehicle. Inside the glove compartment is a map to the house I have set up, keys to the house, and enough money to take care of supplies. Once you get to the house, you will remain there. I want you to stay off the grid because James and Esme might try to look for you. Do you have any questions?"

"How do you plan to distract James and Esme?" Edward asks.

"Tomorrow morning James is going to the chamber for a few more girls. I'll convince Esme to join him." The boys nod their heads because they understand Esme's perverse need to be involved with selecting the girls that are brought and kept here.

"Where is this house?"

Answering Jasper's question, I say, "It's in Oregon."

"Oregon. Why not somewhere further away?" Emmett wonders.

"One, taking a flight is out of the question. Security is too strict and we can't risk discovery. Two, I have a friend in Oregon that has agreed to help you. This house has everything you need and he will visit you there and attempt to council you."

"Council?" Edward scoffs.

"Yes," I say through clenched teeth. "You all need help and he understands the delicacy of the situation."

A throat clears and a voice I haven't heard in weeks says, "Why do you trust us?"

Everyone in the room looks at Alice. Rosalie's hand stops threading through a sleeping Bella's hair, and Jasper's eyes are lit with excitement at hearing his girl talking. Her voice is hoarse from staying silent so long, but from the look in Jasper's eyes, one would think he heard angels singing.

I turn to the fragile, pixie-like girl and say, "I don't. I know a few of you will get it in your heads that this is the most opportune time you will ever get to escape, but you're wrong. Do not doubt Esme's reach. She will stop at nothing to protect herself and James and if that includes having you killed, she will do it."

"No... you're wrong." We all turn to see that Bella is awake, shaking her head at what I've said. "Esme wouldn't do that. She... She helps us. Why would you... say that?"

There are tears in her eyes, and Edward is visibly fighting with himself, his hands in his hair, while Rosalie tries to calm her. "Edward," I snap, "Get a hold of yourself or I will ask you to leave."

He takes some calming breaths while I hear Rose trying to reason with Bella. She's telling Bella that if Esme really wanted them to be safe then she wouldn't have a problem with their escape. Bella slowly nods her head before lying back down.

"The girls will remain here for the night, locked up safe. We can't risk James getting his hands on any of them at this point." The boys once again agree by nodding their heads, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Alice grab Rosalie's hand. It seems that she has no more to say.

It's well past midnight now, and I have a feeling that James will be tiring soon so I say, "Be ready tomorrow morning. Boys, pack whatever you need. Emmett, I wish to have a word with you back at the clinic. Now if there are no other questions, I suggest you all get a good night's rest. You'll need it."

With longing looks to their girls, my sons allow me to usher them out of the room before I lock the door behind me. Edward doesn't even attempt to ask for the key because he knows neither of his brothers will risk Anthony getting to their respective girls. Both Edward and Jasper head to the main section of the mansion while Emmett follows me. Just as we reach the clinic we hear a door bang against the wall right before James steps into the hall. His bare chest is slick with sweat and blood, and he stalks past us as he says, "I'm finished. Emmett, your Rose won't always be so lucky."

I place a hand on Emmett's chest and give him a slight head shake. He turns away from James' laughing, retreating form and heads for the room where James' broken toy is sure to be. He stands in the doorway, swallowing repeatedly. I know whatever happened in that room is probably threatening his dinner to come up so I say, "Don't think about what he's done. Just get her and bring her to the clinic. I need to set up the table."

He nods his head as I enter the clinic. It will be a long night.

I rinse away the blood that is in the way and start stitching the tear in the girl's side. It is the wound that has me worried the most and I angle the surgical light overhead again before repairing the sliced intestines. Chances of preventing infection and later sepsis are nil, and I wonder for the hundredth time why I bother. She's not going to make it, but the oath I took all those years ago prevents me from stopping. I hate that my own son has made me question and doubt my ethics.

"Rose kicked him."

I raise my eyes and realize Emmett is still in the room before getting back to the task at hand. A tiny part of me is glad that he stayed to witness the risk James poses. "What does that have to do with the bleeding girl on my table?"

He swallows before saying, "She kicked him and he wanted to hurt her back, but I was there to stop him." I smile behind my surgical mask, knowing he can't see it. Of course he stopped James. "He was angry and this girl paid the price."

I take a deep breath and say, "If it wasn't Rosalie, it would have been something else. Yes this girl suffered, but you and Rosalie are not to blame. James is responsible for his own actions."

Emmett's brow is furrowed as he contemplates what I've said and finally he nods in agreement. "You're right. Do you think we can pull it off? Get away from all of this," he says, waving his hand to the table.

"Yes." I don't say more because I'm focusing on the damage done to the girl's large intestines.

Hours later and a part of me is impressed that Emmett stayed for the entire operation. I tell him to carry the girl to the bed, knowing I don't have to stress the gentleness required to keep the stitches intact. Along with the wound to the abdomen, James decided to use meat hooks to hold her in place while he violated her. The damage done to her trapezius was a nightmare to fix because by the time I finished repairing her intestines I was exhausted.

I wheeled the fluid bags close behind him and give a relieved sigh when he places her in the bed. She will stay here the night to recoup. The bloody gown, gloves, and mask all go in the waste bin and I head for the sink to scrub my hands. My shoulders and back are tense from hours of working on the girl that won't survive, and my hands are cramping from holding the instruments for so long. I'm too old to work like this.

"You okay, Dad?"

Emmett. Out of all of my sons, he is the most compassionate one. I smile wearily at him and say, "Yeah, I'm fine, Emmett."

After drying my hands, I head for the medical cabinet and reach for the syringe kit that I had prepared. Handing it to him, I say, "This is a precaution in case one of the girls or Anthony gives you any problems." He opens it and starts shaking his head. "Emmett, do not argue with me," I somehow manage in a stern voice. "If one of the girls panics, I want you to administer the pink syringe. If Anthony emerges, I want you to use the greenish blue one. Do not hesitate. This is very important; give it a little flick to make all the air bubbles present, shoot a little out, then stick them in the rear. Try to hit the fleshiest part. You can do this, Emmett."

He takes a deep breath before saying, "Okay, Dad."

Turning back to the cabinet, I reach behind the boxes of nitrile gloves for the information they will need. Handing the envelope to him, I say, "Everything you need is in there. Don't let Esme or James see you with it. And don't try to contact me; it won't be safe."

"You're really not coming with us?"

"I'll try to later on but no promises. I need to make sure they don't find out where you went. If they do, I'll send word. Don't worry about the money—everything you need is in that envelope," I said nodding to his hands. "Fake I.D.'s, bank routing numbers, and info about the car that will take you safely out of Washington. Also the names that I want Jasper to use tomorrow at the airport."

He catches me off guard when he wraps his large arms around me and says, "Thank you, Dad."

"James," I call out when I see him heading for the room where the girls are kept. I don't want him going into the girls' room is because I don't want him to notice that three of them are missing.

"_What?_"

I'm really sick of him and his attitude. "Esme's taking you to the chamber this morning. Don't keep her waiting. You can play with your toys when you get back." I feel sick saying that sentence. Somewhere in the world another parent is saying the same thing to their child, but it doesn't have nearly the same meaning.

"Carlisle, leave him alone," Esme admonishes as she rounds the corner. "He's just excited."

"I don't want to hear it, Esme. I'm fucking tired, and don't even think of tell me how to talk to your mother," I say, pointing a finger at James. "I spent all of last night trying to fix his broken toys, and I'm tired. If he wants to play with one of them, he can damn well wait until he gets back."

They look startled at my outburst, but miraculously Esme sees reason in my rant. Turning to her favorite boy, she rubs his chest and says, "Your father is right." I nearly laugh at the shocked expression on James' face. "You can wait until then. You don't want to waste all of your energy, do you? Let's go get you some new ones and you can have all the fun you want."

I roll my eyes when he shoots me one last glare before they head for our six car garage. Jasper joins me at the window in the foyer as I watch them pull away. Once I can no longer see their tail lights, I say, "It's time."


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, all! Mmsa and I want to thank you for sticking with this story. We know it's a rough read and we're happy you stuck it out. So, we were working on this chapter, bouncing ideas around. Unfortunately, mmsa's email got hacked and her work was stolen. So she lost what she was working on, and this chapter is a bit short because it's my small part. (We didn't want to leave you hanging so we decided to update.) If you see her work posted somewhere under a name other than mmsa or mmsinful, please report it!**

**Warning: This chapter had foul language and violence.**

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><p><strong>Esme POV<strong>

Something is off. The sensation sits at the bottom of my belly, spreading out until the tiny hairs on my body stand on end. It is an eerie feeling, like the quiet before the storm, and I don't like it one little bit.

All the lights are out. Not odd considering the staff is always dismissed on days when we pick up girls for the boys. However, Carlisle and my other sons should be home. So why weren't the flipping lights on?

"James."

Without being told, he heads into the house, leaving me with his new toys, drugged and sleeping in the back of the van. One of the little sluts saw me before we had a chance to put the bag over her head. I would tell James to play with her first.

It took several hours before James was satisfied with the toys he had picked. In the end, he chose a variety of girls. I wasn't too surprised to see he picked a few that resembled Bella. He hates sharing her with Edward and Anthony; he hates the limits that I put on his play with her too. Because my other son has a fondness for her, I told James he couldn't treat Bella like his other toys—he could play with her, but he wasn't allowed to break her.

James comes back to the van and says, "They're not here, Mother."

"What do you mean they're not here?" I ask, enunciating each word because what he's saying doesn't make sense. Of course they're here.

"I mean nobody answered when I called out," James sneers.

I give him a pointed look because I raised him better than that. He immediately recognizes his flip-up and looks at the ground. He's afraid I'll take one of his toys away before he gets a chance to play with her. It wouldn't be the first time. Over the years I found that my boys respond best when I threaten to take something they have a fondness for; it keeps them in line.

I sigh and get out of the van. I make sure to stroke James' handsome face so he knows he's been forgiven and say, "Bring your toys in and then maybe you can play with one. The blonde pixie looks like fun."

He smiles at my suggestion and I roll my eyes when he turns away, yanking the side door open in his excitement. Trudging up the steps, I go to the main section of the house. I check Edward's room first and notice the room is dark but otherwise clean and minus a son. The same goes for Emmett's and Jasper's rooms. By now I'm starting to get worried. If they were going somewhere they would have told me. I dig my phone from my purse and check to see if there are any messages. Frustrated, I growl and hit Carlisle's number. Just as I hear his generic message to leave a flippin' message, I hear James shout for me.

Dashing out of the right wing I speed through the foyer and run up the stairs where I can still hear James screaming for me. He's standing at the door to Carlisle's little clinic with a puzzled look on his face. There on the floor is my husband. The clinic itself looks ransacked and I turn to James and say, "Bella, Rose, Alice. Make sure they are still here."

He takes off as I enter the clinic and reach for the light, but the blasted thing flickers before it full kicks on. Using the toe of my heeled boot, I push Carlisle over onto his back. His face is covered in swelling bruises and cuts, and I look around and notice the glass that cut him came from the cabinet that holds his supplies and his expensive surgical light, explaining the earlier flickering. I would laugh at the sight of my husband beaten and bloodied, but I'm too worried about what this means.

James returns and tells me something I already know—the girls are gone.

Bringing my foot back, I deliver a hard kick to my husband's side and shout, "Wake the fuck up!" Carlisle groans and tries to cover his side but it's not a good enough reaction. "James, lift him up," I order through clenched teeth.

He is hesitant at first until I snap at him, telling him I don't have all day. James struggles a bit with the weight; it's not the same as lifting a tiny girl. Propping Carlisle in front of him, James makes sure to hold Carlisle's arms behind his back. He knows what's about to happen; I can see the excitement in his eyes.

A sharp thwack rings through the sterile room, and I shake the sharp sting out of the palm of my hand, waiting for my husband to come to. After minutes of my screams and four strikes later, Carlisle jerks to consciousness. Or perhaps he jerks because some where along the way my opened hand curled into a fist.

"E-Esme?"

"What the _fuck_ happened?"

Carlisle looks behind him to see why he is retrained and says, "What's going on? A-Are you hitting me?"

I don't answer his questions because I'm not in the mood. "Where are they, Carlisle?"

"_Who_? And why does my side hurt?"

"YOUR FUCKING SONS TOOK THE GIRLS AND LEFT!"

"I don't know what happened," Carlisle whispers.

I walk up to my husband, clenching the sides of his mouth and say, "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I-I don't know. One second I was checking on one of the girls and the next thing I know, I'm being thrown around," he sputters.

It shouldn't have happened. I know Carlisle took self-defense classes. He underestimated our boys or worse—_let_ them get away. Unable to control my rage any longer, I bring my hand back again and start hitting him with all my strength, screaming obscenities at him. James smiles at me, proudly. He's always telling me to stand up to Carlisle.

I finally come to a stop when my breath is ragged and I have side stitch. James tosses a severely beaten Carlisle to the ground with a smirk. Walking to where Carlisle lies on his belly, I lower myself to the floor, next to his head. I'm sincere when I whisper in his ear, "If I find out you had anything to do with this, I will make you suffer in ways you can't possibly imagine."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: ****Helluvabell and I would like to say thank you for all the reviews and support you guys send our way. This chapter is long, to make up for last time. This one is a little intense, and hopefully will not dissappoint. Please leave us a review and let us know how we are doing. Also, check out Helluvabell's stories, she has amazing o/s that must be read. **

**Warning: This chapter contains violence and horrible language. Also, the opinions from characters do not reflect those of the authors. Read at your own discretion. **

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><p><strong>JPOV<strong>

_It__'__s__time__, __It__'__s__time__, __It__'__s__time__.._. That's all I've been able to think about since watching from the staircase as the vermin pair – named James and Esme – walk out the door for some shopping.

_Shopping_, I scoff at that thought.

I walk down the stairs, all twenty of them, until I reach Carlisle by the door. Adrenaline begins to surge through my veins as he utters the same phrase that has been running through mine since last night's announcement. I grab the key from Carlisle and make my way to where the girls are located. Before I reach their door, I pass by the the room where the rest of the girls are kept. I contemplate, for just a small second, whether or not to help them out. I decide not to, helping two besides Alice should count for something.

As expected, they are huddled around Bella, who looks more sick than she did last night. I want to leave her behind, she's a liability. If things make a turn for the worst, she would only slow us down. There are too many factors against us: a sick girl, a grown baby, two ticking time bombs, and a zombie. I'm our best hope at making it all the way.

I grab Bella, none too gently – she's not Alice – and walk brusquely down the corridor, not giving them a chance to memorize the layout in case we don't make it out. I stop midway, annoyed at the constant complaints coming from Rosalie to be careful, the groaning from Bella, and Alice's puffing. Alice isn't used to moving around much anymore, so her muscles are exhausted. I want to drop the girl in my arms and help Alice instead, but that would only slows us even more; time is not a luxury at the moment. I release a sigh of relief as Edward rounds the corner and wordlessly takes Bella from my arms and walks away without a word. I pick up Alice and continue down the corridors until we reach the garage where the SUV's engine is already running.

I run over the list in my head:

_Girls__.._. Alice, Bella, and Rosalie are sitting in the back seat together...

_Personal __possessions__._.. I grab my bag from inside an unused storage box and place it in the car...

_Names __to __buy __tickets __with__... __Shit__, __I __have __to __get __those __from __Carlisle __before __we__go__._

Just as I'm about to go back and get the names, Emmett walks out the door and blocks my way.

"Let's go," he instructs.

"We will, once I get the names from Ca..."

"I got them," he interrupts, patting his back pocket. Sure enough, there's a yellow envelope sticking out from behind.

I contemplate going back myself, because something seems off, especially when Emmett begins to flex his fists. They are slightly swollen and red... I ignore it, it's not my problem; but I am on guard.

Without another word, everyone settles in the SUV, and I begin the drive down to Port Angeles. Everyone is tense, worried that we'll be caught. I can see through the rear view mirror as the girls' gazes are locked to the windows, watching the scenery pass them by, as if they are seeing the world for the first time.

Emmett continues to flex his hands, making me more uneasy as the time rolls by. There's tension rolling off of him in waves, but I suppose it's also coming from everyone else. We soon pass the gates, and release the breath I wasn't aware I was holding.

"Fuck!" mutters Edward, from behind us. "It's like we're waiting on ninjas to descend on us or some shit!"

No one comments, cause it was a fucking weird statement to begin with. Although the analogy is completely stupid, the implication remains the same.

Throughout the whole ride to the airport, I can't help but keep glancing at the rear view mirror. It's a funny thing, the way my mouth twitches, when I look at Alice. And even more unsettling when I catch her glancing back me, and her mouth seems to have the same problem.

_What __does __that __mean__?_ I question. _Must __be __the __stress__,_ I reason.

Check the rear view mirror... Catch Alice sneaking a glance... _No __one __following __us__, __good_...

Check passenger side mirror...

Check passenger driver's side mirror...

_Now __I __just __need __the __names __I __will __be __needing __to __buy __those __tickets __with__..._

"Emmett," I call to him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Give me the names for the tickets," I instruct. I wait for him to hand them over, or for him to rattle them out, but instead I'm met with silence. I turn to look at him, expecting to see him reading the names off the list, but I find him looking out the window, instead. "Emmett!," I snap, irritated that he decides now of all times to act childish.

"I'm not giving you the names," he murmurs, his voice low and almost threatening.

"Why not? I need the names... how else am I to know who to buy the tickets for?"

"Jasper," he sighs, exasperated. "The names are not important... when we get there, I'll give you the damn names. Not before, you over think shit too much."

"I do not over think anything, Emmet. We need to be prepared in case some..."

"Something goes wrong?" he interrupts. "See, you're already doing it, going over everything wrong that can happen along the way."

I want to deny it, but he's right. Different scenarios are already passing through my head, which is why I keep checking that we are not being followed. I let the subject go – not wanting to start an argument. We finally reach Fairchild Airport in Port Angeles. It's not a big airport by any means, but it's big enough to give us the illusion of security – to be able to blend with the rest of civilization.

I drive around in the parking lot, looking for a space surrounded by cars – thinking that they can provide cover in case there is danger. I also look for possible blind spots from cameras, not doubting that Esme would certainly think to check them. After finding a parking space that meets my requirements, I finally look over to Emmett and grab the envelope from his tight grip. I tear it open, scan the names into memory, and grab the credit card – that coincidently, belongs to Jasper Cullen.

I turn to look at Edward and Emmett. "I'm going to head inside, in the meantime, find this new vehicle we're suppose to use. Put all of our stuff inside, but wait for me before you place the girls in. I want to be the one that moves Alice."

"_Alice_," sneers, the rat, also known as Rosalie. "Can move her own damn self."

My hands form a fist as I try to control the surge of anger flowing through my veins. The last thing I need, is to beat the bitch down and cause a violent chain reaction.

"Rosie, not now," says Emmett in a stern voice.

His tone is commanding, and not vulnerable, as it usually is. Rosalie uses common sense, and doesn't say anything else.

I give them one last nod, and exit the SUV before I can change my mind and drag Alice with me somewhere. The airport is fairly busy, with people loading and unloading their cars. There are multiple kids running around, with the usual parent being oblivious and the other one running behind them.

_If __that __was __my __father__, __he __would __have __beat __them __down __in to __submission __before __they __even __thought __of __acting __up __and_... I stop that train of thought before I can finish it. Nothing good ever comes from reliving the past.

Surprisingly enough, the inside is not as busy as the outside. I look at all the airlines, but more specifically, who is tending the public. The line to US Airways has the shortest line, and a blond bimbo tending to it. I make my way to that one, as I place on my aviators.

_Perfect_...

I don't have to wait long in line, but I do make sure that I catch her attention, by using my full height, and flexing my arms when she is watching. She gets more flustered as I saunter my way towards her, showing her the perfect picture of masculinity. I place my arms on the ticket booth, tilt my head a little so that my glasses ride down, and smirk the best way I can. Her breath hitches, and I know she's playing right in to it.

"Good mornin', ma'am," I greet with a polite tip of the head. "I was hopin' you could help me out a bit. I seem to have found myself in a bit of a pickle."

The agent bats her heavily-caked eyelashes. "I'm here to help you any way I can," she purrs.

I grin, playing along with this phoney bimbo. "You see, I need to purchase _six_tickets for the first fight out to Chicago. They're for my boss, and I can't loose this job. I know the rules probably say that they need to be here in person, but that just ain't feasible. I know I'm askin' a lot, but could you be a doll and help me out?" I replace the smirk with a pout, and let my eyes show a bit of anxiousness.

The agent's smile turns into a pout that mirrors my own, and heaves a sigh. "Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's see what magic I can do..." she trails off, but not before slowly licking her lips.

I release my own sigh as soon as she straightens up and puts distance between us. She types away on the system for a minute. I'm about to loose my patience when she abruptly brightens up gives me a triumphant smile.

"You seem to be in luck...ah..." she waits, expectantly.

I realize, with a sense of trepidation, that she's waiting for my name. My first instinct is to give her a false identity, but I soon realize that it's not possible. The card, currently burning a whole in my wallet, has my real name. Plus, this is the lead that we want Esme to follow.

"The name is, Jasper, Ma'am." I reach over the counter, requesting her hand in greeting. She places her hand on mine, making me want to retract it as fast as possible; but I hold still and bring her hand to my lips. "And may I ask, what a beautiful creature like yourself, is named?" I breath into her hand, keeping direct eye contact.

A strangled moan escapes her lips. Her hooded eyes and parted lips make me think she's at the brink of an orgasm. "Amber," she breathes out.

"Amber," I whisper. "Do you think you could speed up the process for me, Hon'. I'm in quite a hurry."

"Yes," she hisses. She reluctantly releases my grip and starts speed typing on the system.

I hand her the list with names that Carlisle provided, along with the credit card. She smiles coyly when she grazes my hand during the exchange. The urge to cringe away is almost unbearable. She hands me back all six tickets, credit card, and receipt with her phone number and address scribbled on the back. I give her one last longing look, imagining myself choking the bitch into oblivion. I almost chuckle, as she mistakes my longing looks for those of lust, as she holds on to the counter for dear life. I make a quick stop in the rest room and brusquely wash my hands and lips before finally joining the rest outside.

When I finally reach the car, I find that they are finishing with the loading of supplies into a black 2010 Chevy Suburban. It's about two cars down from where I parked the SUV. I also find Emmett talking quietly to Alice; I don't like it. Rosalie glares at me as I reach over her to pick up Alice. I level her with my own glare, daring the bitch to just say something small and give me a reason to level her out. She looks away, just as Edward does the same thing and picks up Bella. I somehow get the feeling that she is more afraid of him than me.

_How __the __hell __does __that __happen__?_ I question myself, as I place Alice in one of the seats in the back._I __must __be __loosing __my __touch__..._

All the girls are sitting together in the three back seats. Emmett takes the middle seat, behind the passenger side, and Edward takes the one behind me on the driver's side. Again, I'm the driver, because even though I won't admit to it, Emmett's muscles are needed more. I gather the papers from Emmett with our new location.

_Three __Rivers__, __Oregon__... __Shit__, __not __far __enough__._ Once I place the location into the navigation system, I groan, knowing that we will be stuck on the road for at least nine hours – not counting on bathroom breaks, weather, and any other obstacles.

The first three hours, surprisingly enough, pass without a hitch – even when we drive through Forks. It is now close to one in the after noon, and about time for a bathroom break. We pull over a small town outside of Seattle. The gas station is empty, besides the attendant. I park the Chevy by the closest pump to the bathroom. Emmett escorts the girls to the bathroom while I fill the rest of the tank with gas, as well as an extra container. The stop goes on without a hitch.

During the next hour, the girls become restless, specifically Bella – who seems to be getting worse as time passes. She's in pain, with bouts of nausea and vomiting. She refuses food, saying that it'll only come out again.

"I want to sleep...I-I n-need... to sleep," she manages to gasp.

Through the rear view mirror, I see Edward visibly tense. He turns in his seat and reaches out his hand to Bella. "Come here, Baby. I'll hold you for a while so you can sleep."

Before Bella can stand up, Rosalie puts her arm across Bella's torso to stop her. "No."

The atmosphere in the car becomes thick with tension – both Alice and Emmett waiting for Edward's reaction. Edward keeps his arm extended towards Bella, as he beckons her again.

"I. Said. No!" Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Edward retracts his arm, only to be replaced by Emmett's instead. "Rosie, baby. Come over here with Ali so that Bella can lie down and get some rest," he coos, to her.

I glance quickly at the road, and turn on cruise control, after making sure that the road will remain the same for quite some time. I turn to look through the rear view mirror, just in time to see Rosalie slap Emmett's hand away from her. What both Emmett and Rosalie didn't account for, was the strength she used; I watch in horror, as the force and momentum, make Emmett's arm, hit Edward really hard in the face.

_OH__, __Shit__!_

It takes a matter of minutes, usually, for Edward to turn into Anthony; it is usually something we can all foresee coming, and eventually prepare for. But this change, it seems to take in a matter of moments. One second he's sitting with a shocked look on his face, the next, he's jumping over his seat to the back and throwing punches at Rosalie.

I can't stop staring at the scene, as Emmett throws himself too, making the truck swerve slightly, to try and pull Edward away from a screaming Rosalie and Bella. Bella is pounding on the glass window, screaming for someone to get her away from Anthony.

I watch helplessly as Alice is caught in the middle.

I maneuver the car in to the nearest rest stop, making sure there are no other cars, or witnesses present. I turn the car off and run to the passenger's side door in the back to help out. There is screaming about some bag and punches being thrown everywhere. But my main focus, is on Alice, who is rummaging through a brown paper bag and pulls out two syringes.

_What __the __fuck__? __Was __she __planning __on __using__t hese __on __us__... __on __me__?_ I can't help the anger that courses through me as I yank the bag and needles from her. I have the urge to throw her over my shoulder and lock her ass in a basement, back to where I can control her, and control myself.

"Jasper," she whispers.

I stop my inner ramblings as I hear her say my name for the first time ever, everything around me forgotten.

"Please, give me the needles." She puts her hand out to me, expectantly.

I stare at her, still stupefied at not only hearing her voice again, but to seeing her moving around, being coherent. I must be staring at her too much, because I suddenly feel the syringes being pulled from my grasp. I focus back on the fighting and screaming again, only this time, I manage to help Emmett pull Anthony away from Rosalie's face. We pull him out of the car, and with great strain, barely manage to keep his ass on the floor.

"Stick him with the needle, Alice!" Emmett yells, over Bella's screams and Anthony's snarls.

Before I can ask Emmett which syringe Alice is suppose to use – because one is pink and the other blue – Alice reaches over us and injects Anthony's neck with the full contents of the pink one. She moves away from his thrashing body as it slowly starts to loose the fight. We hold on to him, until he's sitting down on the floor rocking back and forth laughing like a hyena.

Emmett is looking at the pink syringe in his hand with a look of panic. "Fuck, Alice! Pink was for Bella, blue was for Anthony! Didn't I tell you to stick him in the ass... you stuck him on the neck!"

Alice shrinks back from him as I stand in front of her protectively. "Don't you fucking scream at her one more time. If it wasn't for your bitch, we wouldn't be having any damn problems right now!" Without another word, I pick up Alice gently from the floor and place her in the front passenger's seat, away from everyone, where she belongs.

"Fuck!" yells Emmett, as he reaches over to Bella to try and calm her down.

Bella is complete hysterics, rivaling those of Anthony. She is thrashing and screaming and crying. Emmett looks at the blue syringe in his hand, and without another thought, plunges the needle into her ass and pushes half of the liquid inside. She falls unconscious within seconds.

The whole scene is surreal, and I feel the first licks of fatigue hit my body. Anthony is on the floor still laughing his ass off; Bella is on the floor, unconscious; and somehow throughout my observations, Emmett has reverted into his little persona – sucking his thumb – as a bloodied and bruised Rosalie rocks him from side to side.

Putting aside all my anger and fatigue, I help Rosalie maneuver both her and Emmett to the back seat so that they can lie down together since he refuses to let go of her. Rosalie whispers her thanks, but instead I just warn her to keep her fucking hands and comments to herself. I can hear Emmett's sobs for his mommy to be okay and that he's sorry that she's hurt; and finally, pleads with her not to die again.

Alice is watching my every move, so I make sure to be extra careful with how I handle Bella. I gently lift her body from the ground and place her in the middle seat behind the driver's side. I buckle her in very tight and recline her seat in to a sleeping position. I finally drag Anthony's body and not so gently push his ass on the other seat. I contemplate tying him down, but upon further observations, Anthony is no longer a threat, in fact, he' giggling like a young school girl; he's waving his hand in front of his face, back and forth - completely mesmerized.

_What __the __fuck __was __inside __those __syringes__? __Bella __is __completely __knocked __out __after __being __injected __with __the __blue__, __and __Anthony __seems__... __drugged__? __after __being __injected __with __the __pink__. __I __know __that __Edward __had __been __giving __Bella __drugs__ - __Rohypnol__, __to __be __precise__ - __so __maybe __that__'__s __what__'__s __inside __his __system __now__; __and __Bella __got __the __sedative __instead__. __Funny__..._

I help Alice with her straps, too, 'cause no one knows when the next wave of attack will occur - and Alice being so small - can literally fly through the window. Once again, I begin the drive - only, this time - a little less guarded. We have made good distance from the house, and even if Esme has begun to look for us, there is no way for her to be able to catch up to us any time soon.

Two more hours pass - leaving only three hours left on the trip - and I'm about ready to bash my head against the steering wheel. Actually, I want to hit Anthony on the head, immediately. The Rohypnol is working through his system, like a fat kid during a sugar binge; he laughs one minute, cries the other, sings the next. It would be humorous and highly amusing, but only if he would actually shut up for a minute, or two.

The only reason why I don't strap a piece of tape over his mouth, is sitting right next to me. I catch the little giggles that she tries to hide every time Anthony does something that amuses her. Alice seems more alive and lucid the farther we get away. I keep glancing her way, smitten with the way her eyes light up, as we pass another sign that announces a town's limit.

My mouth is doing that twitchy thing it does, more frequently.

Alice even looks different now that she's "free". She has more color in her skin, her eyes are bright with curiosity, and she even looks younger if that's even possible. She has pretty pouty lips, I wonder how I've never noticed them before...

"...yeah, man. Can you believe that shit? I know I told that fucker that one before but nooooooo..." Anthony's ramblings bring me out of my musings.

I try to pay attention to his blabber, but shit... it makes no sense. "Anthony," I say harshly. "No one knows what the fuck you're talking about."

"Of course no one knows what I'm talking about," he grumbles, like if it was something obvious. "I'm a genius, it takes another to understand the level of fucking awesomeness I exude. Okay, here's one for the kiddies..." He kicks Alice's seat. "What is invisible and smells like carrots?"

The truck is silent, save for the fast bouncing of his leg on Alice's seat. Alice turns to look at me with a worried expression, as if asking me if Anthony is seriously asking her a question she needs to answer. I shrug my shoulders, giving her the option to answer.

"Uh..." she manages to squeak.

"Bunny farts!" yells Anthony, making both Alice and I, jump in our seats. "Bunny farts are invisible and smell like carrots! How do you not know that?"

Alice an I share a look, silently asking each other if he's sane.

"Hey, here's a better one. What does one snowman say to the other snowman?" He waits for a moment before answering himself. "I smell carrots!"

I groan, my irritation more than evident.

"Okay, okay. Here's one for the sexually repressed." He kicks my seat this time.

For the first time - ever in my existence – I feel heat in my face. Alarmed I look at my reflection using the mirror in my visor. _What __the __fuck __is __this__?_ My face is red, almost like if I'm...F_uck__! __I__'__m __blushing__! _I start choking with my spit, and immediately start pounding my chest to relieve the burning. Alice leans over the center console and rubs my throat with her tiny hands after she offers me a sip of water from her bottle. I don't know how to feel about this.

Anthony is laughing his ass off behind us. "I knew you were a virgin. Jesus, Jasper. Pussy only stays tight for so long..." he says, as his eyes drift over to Alice questioningly.

I know what he's thinking... How come I never took Alice to bed? But how do I answer him that for me sex, leads to the devil's door.

"Alice, has a tight pussy. Don't you, Alice?" he coos. "Here, I bet your tits are nice and perky, too." He reaches over our two seats and begins to fondle her breasts.

Alice cringes away from his hand as I swing my elbow and hit him right on the mouth. I didn't cause as much damage as I would have liked to, but it sent a clear message. Don't fondle my girl.

"Fuck, Jasper! How am I suppose to eat pussy with a busted lip?" he whines, wiping the little bit of blood from it.

"Oh, I don't know. Use your fingers," I reply back sarcastically.

I continue to keep my eyes on the road, enjoying the rare moment of silence... until Alice gasps. I turn to see what has gotten that reaction from her, and find fucking Anthony fondling Bella's breast through her open shirt.

"Oh my God!" I moan in exasperation, pulling the car once again to the side. "What the fuck are you doing?" I ask, once I pull his hands from her chest.

"Her titties begged me to touch them, didn't you hear them?"

_Okayyyyy__..._

I find rope in the back of the car I manage to tie his knees together, as well as his writs. I pull his seat belt super tight around his torso before going over the other side and cover Bella's chest.

We are once again on the road, and this time, with Alice's soft thank you ringing in my ears.

"Hey, Alice?" calls Anthony. "Since this prick won't answer, I'm hoping you will. What do you call kids born in whorehouses?" he asks, looking absolutely curious.

"Uh, underprivileged?" she answers.

"Pfft, no, try brothel sprouts."

Alice lets out a little giggle, making me relax my grip from the steering wheel. I glance briefly at the clock and hold in the groan... _Two__more__hours__of__this__shit__?_

"Hey, Jasper. What is the definition of trust?"

_You__, __thinking __I __won__'__t __kill __you__..._ I think, but instead I say, "I don't know, why don't you just tell me."

"You have no patience, which is why you would suck at foreplay. But... I'll give you the answer anyways..." he pauses for dramatic effect.

"Well," I encourage him.

"Two cannibals giving each other a blowjob."

Alice's giggle does not amuse me. "That better not be your way of askin' me to blow you."

"That's my way of telling Alice to blow YOU," he says in a sincerity. "It's time for you to _come__,_ and join us in the land of men."

Embarrassment floods my body, making me feel more inadequate in Alice's eyes. I choose to ignore him, instead of showing any kind of response in front of Alice. I don't want to seem vulnerable. My lack of response doesn't stop Anthony from carrying on the conversation. If anything, it seems to spur him on even more.

"Fuuuuck, now _I__'__m _horny," he says, and I hear the sound of a zipper.

Alice and I both tense at the sound, not knowing if the sound of the zipper is coming from Anthony, who is suppose to be tied up, or from one of the other passengers. I take a reluctant peek through the rear view mirror, and cringe when I catch sight of Anthony pleasuring himself with his head thrown back.

"I have another one for ya," he groans, mid stroke. "It's one of my favorites. A priest and a nun are in the desert. And the nun... she's ten kinds of fuck-hot. I'm talking the biggest tits you can imagine- perfect for a titty-fuck. All of a sudden, the camel they're riding - and you bet your ass she was grinding her shit all over that hump - drops dead."

I'm in a trance, a very nasty trance - like one of those moments where it's just so gross that you can't look away. But I force myself to, because what else can I do? He's already tied up. But I warn Alice either way. "Alice, Darlin'. Do me a favor and do not look back... Whatever you hear, just don't look back," I plead. _I __can __not __believe __he__'__s __jacking __off __to a __camel __joke!_

She looks at me questioningly, and for a second, my heart stops when her eyes seem to want to shift towards him. Instead, she surprises me by following my orders and keeps her head looking forward.

"So the priest and this very fuckable nun are stranded there, and the hot nun says, 'You know, Father, my whole life I've always wondered what was between a man's legs.' Fucking priest ain't stupid. He figures he's getting pussy, and you just know it's going to be the sweetest virginal pussy ever. Fuck, I'm getting harder thinking about a nice, tight, little, virgin cunt. The sweet little nun looks at the priest's dick and says, 'What the hell is that?' The priest says to her, 'This, my dear, is what gives life.' Of course he's trying to smooth talk her, but the chump doesn't have game like me, and the hottie nun says, 'Then stick it in the camel so we can get the hell out of here.'"

"You know who has a nice tight little twat?" he asks no one in particular. He chuckles, sounding almost breathless as he answers his own question. "Bella. She has the sweetest little pussy I've ever used."

Anthony's careless comments about Bella, affect Alice more than what I'm comfortable with; her flinch is enough for me to do something about it. Taking another glance at him, his focus is mainly on Bella, as he continues his strokes. I can only guess his dialogue will include her more. I grab my iPod and headphones from the center console and order - more than ask Alice - to put them on.

"I bet I could get Bella to be my hot little nun. I bet I could get her to her knees and have her worship my cock." His final grunt is my cue to turn the fuck away from my peeping tom act. I just hope, for his sake, that his jizz only lands on him, and nowhere else.

Thankfully, the next sounds coming from Anthony, are snores. A quick glance to the back only confirms it. I press harder on the pedal, urging the truck to travel faster, and take advantage of the silence now that everyone is knocked out.

It's close to nine by the time I find the winding road that leads to the cabin. It's so dark, that it's hard to keep on the trail, rather than just drive through random trees. I'm about to give up and reverse the car, when the lights at the end of the long, winding road, catch my attention. There are many windows in the cabin, and it seems that all the lights are turned on, giving it a welcoming feeling. I stop the truck as close as I can to the front steps, remembering that I will probably be carrying more than just luggage by myself.

_Maybe __I __can __get __Dr__. __Dickwad __to __come __and __help __me __psychoanalyze __the __baggage __too__... _My thoughts are bitter, and a little resentful, at the fact that I'm being forced to get help over shit that is not my fault.

The main doors to the cabin open wide, allowing a figure to step through the threshold. The figure is small and feminine, activating my instincts to lock down all the doors in the truck. My right hand automatically goes to my right calf, where a very sharp knife is hidden. My fingers are already accustomed to the grooves and crevices on the knife's handle, by the time her feet are off the bottom step.

_How __the __fuck __did __Esme __get __here __so __fast__? __Did __Carlisle __set __us __up__? _

The knife is out of it's hiding place and in between my legs, now. I contemplate waking up the rest, but I know that out of all of them, I'm the one with the best skills when it comes to fighting; they will only distract me. Different scenarios run through my head: different ways, to kill, forms of fighting, and even escape routes.

The light tapping on my window breaks my concentration on the last strategy. The light from the house illuminates her back, but completely hides her face in the shadows.

All I can think about, as I lower the window down a crack is... _We__'__re __going __to __die __tonight__, __but __I__'__m __taking __somebody __down __with __me__. _


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** **Hello, everyone! I know, I know, it's been forever since we've posted. If you're wondering what took so long, hop over to one of our profiles and check out _Heroes in Latex_. It features our favorite couple at Comic-Con and of course smutty goodness ;)**

**In other news, I finished _Control_! So if you're looking for a multi-chapter fic that is complete check out my profile over at TWCS.**

**-helluvabell**

**Warning: there is a bit of violence in this chapter… if you've missed warnings on previous posts, this fic is not for kids or the faint of heart.**

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><p><strong>Tia POV<strong>

The Platt family.

The Platts are one of the five founding families of Seattle. Over one-hundred and fifty years has past since, but the Platt dynasty and their hold over the community is solid. That wouldn't be the case if it weren't for an article in _The Seattle Times._ In the late seventies, the article ripped the well-to-do family out of obscurity and into Seattle's most elite social circles. It didn't take long for the once unknown family to make connections, allowing their legacy to grow.

They are the untouchables—society's darling family, especially their sweet Esme.

How I abhor that woman.

I met Carl in medical school and the two of us quickly became friends. True, I always hoped it would to turn into something more, but by then he was with Esme. Had I known the horrors that woman was responsible for, I wouldn't have spent so many nights wondering why I didn't measure up. I would not have been envious of her and what she held.

It was almost a decade after his marriage to her that Carl told me the real reason he married her. It wasn't out of love like everyone believes. I could barely contain my disgust when Carl told me of his drunken fit. How he violated Seattle's sweetheart. How he married her out of obligation. It took many years for me to reconcile that the man I respected and held in such high regard could be responsible for such a heinous act.

I moved to Oregon, away from my close friend and having to see their "happy" faces smiling back at me from the front page of the society section. Despite the distance we still manage to talk on the phone every week. I should have known something was amiss. I should have picked up on the signs and signals he was sending my way that he was in over his head.

I agreed to meet with him in Portland to discuss something that was weighing heavily on his mind. He told me about the girls and what his sons were doing, and the first thing I did was slap him across his face for being a part of those atrocities.

He gave me a sardonic smile and said, "Tia, I deserve much worse than that."

I told him I was going to the police, that the girls his sons are hurting need help and that his wife needs to be stopped.

"And who will believe you, Tia?"

He was right. Even if I did manage to convince the authorities that Seattle's royalty was guilty of human trafficking, I knew their connections would protect them. It made me sick that Carl expected me to remain silent. He knew my silence wouldn't last and that was why he enlisted my help now.

By having me help his sons and the girls that they were infatuated with, he was making me an accessory to the crimes that were committed. I could have told him no and carried out my plans to go to the FBI. It wouldn't have mattered; the Platts would have come to Esme's defense and gotten rid of the "evidence," leaving their darling girl looking like the victim of misunderstanding or worse—they could find a way to pin everything on Carl. And with the ridiculous amount of guilt that has amassed over the years, my friend would undoubtedly take the fall for his dysfunctional family.

The most I could do is help Carl's sons and the girls that were taken. I would push aside my disgust over his sons' actions and remain neutral. I would help heal all of them and prey Esme hasn't damaged them beyond repair.

I would do this because this is my calling.

The air swirls through the darkness. I can see it with debris that has been picked up as it floats on the currents, dancing in and out of the light that shines from the porch. Sounds of wildlife and the buzz of the generator in the shed are all that I can hear. I let out the stuffy air from the cabin that Carl secured, including turning the generator on as well as the water. Other than that, the place is pretty well maintained. The pantry has been stocked and I brought some perishables for the kids. I received a call from Carl, telling me that the "package" should be there. I could only guess that meant he was being watched or his phone calls monitored.

I walk back inside the cabin to wait and close the door behind me. As soon as the door closes, a large SUV pulls up the drive. I look through the window and wait for them to get out of the car, but no one does. I decide to go find out what the problem is.

"Okay," I mutter as I make my way down the steps and slowly approach the driver side window. My intuition is screaming at me that something is not quite right. The driver doesn't give any signs that they've seen me, and I gently tap on the window. My weariness is well-founded when the window only opens a crack.

"Who are you?"

Through the small space I can see it's a young man, one of Carl's sons. By his slight accent, I know I am dealing with Jasper.

"My name's Tia. Carl told me that you'd be showing up here tonight—"

"Who the hell is Carl?" he asks, cutting me off.

I resist rolling my eyes. Knowing that an early establishment of trust is vital, I carefully say, "Carlisle... your father. I've always called him Carl. I knew him before he became so uptight."

Jasper narrows his eyes when he sees my smile and says, "Bullshit."

"Excuse me?" At this point I can't help the amusement in my voice and the smirk on my face. I knew the kids had issues. Hell, no one could have left that house without some form of trauma done to their psyches.

"The old man's always been uptight, and I ain't never heard anyone call him Carl before," Jasper spits, eyes narrowed even further, trying to detect any dishonesty.

Knowing I'm treading in thin water, I say, "We can discuss this inside. I'm sure you're all exhausted from the trip."

I slowly tip my head to the side and I'm surprised to see one of the girls in the passenger seat. She's covered in filth, incredibly tiny, and deep asleep in a curled position. As I wonder how she's able to sleep comfortably sitting in an upright fetal position, Jasper's face blocks the girl's figure. His jaw is clenched tight, and I get the feeling that the tiny girl is Alice. Apparently his trust isn't easily earned because he's not talking.

"Were you coming in, or were you guys going to stay in the car all night? The girls might be more comfortable in a bed," I say, knowing from the detailed files Carl gave me that his sons are strangely protective of the girls they terrorized.

He turns his head forward, and I get the feeling that he wants both me and Alice in his peripheral vision. On one hand he wants to look at her, but he doesn't want to risk taking his eyes off of me.

So quietly I almost miss it, he says, "Yeah, beds."

"Did you need help?" I ask, jutting my chin in Alice's direction.

"I got it," he hisses, his eyes forming slits.

Arching an eyebrow, I decide to say nothing and head for the passenger side of the SUV. After opening the door, I struggle in vain to find some logical explanation for the scene before me. There is a young man passed out and tied to one of the seats. His fly is open and his privates are hanging out with dried, white stains on his shirt. I can only surmise that it is his own semen. Buckled in the seat next to him is a girl not much bigger than Alice. Her shirt is wrapped tightly around her torso, and I suspect it has something to do with the boy next to her. There is another boy in the back seat, his head laying in the lap of the third girl. Judging by his size, I know he is Emmett which means the girl is probably Rosalie. Her head is slumped down slightly, but I'm still able to see her cheek is discolored and swollen.

"I said I got it."

I jump at Jasper's voice in my ear. I hadn't realized he joined me on the other side. He tries to use his body in an intimidating way to get me to back away from the Suburban. Instead of backing away, I raise my hands in a calming way and say, "Alright. If you don't need any help, I'll go inside. One thing first."

Jasper needs to know that while I'm here to help them, I will in no way be bullied by him or his brothers. I do not wait for his permission because in this instance I don't need it. Without taking my eyes off of the young man before me, I say in a loud clear voice. "Everybody up!" Hearing the sounds of stirring in the backseat, I say to Emmett and Rosalie, "You guys come on in. I'll explain everything then."

I hear their whispering voices and smile while I head back inside. The cabin is not cramped like the outside appearance leads you to believe. It opens with a large living room and a small office jutting off the side under a set of staircases. Past that is the eating area which leads to an open kitchen. There is an archway on the other side of the kitchen that leads to some sleeping quarters. There is a total of four bedrooms—two upstairs and two downstairs. Two of them have two queen sized beds while the other two rooms have a single queen sized bed in them. It is my hope that the girls will bunk together in one room. I take a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs and wait patiently for the six of them to join me.

Jasper enters, carrying a shirtless Edward into the living room. He dumps him unceremoniously on the floor before heading back outside. When he reaches the door, he takes a step to the side to let Rosalie and Emmett inside. The first thing I notice are the fresh bruises on Rosalie's face along with a busted bottom lip. The second thing I notice is the tight grip Emmett has on the hem of her shirt. All of which are signals that there was an altercation during the trip which led to Emmett reverting to his younger persona.

I am barely able to see that Rosalie has violet colored eyes because they are nearly swollen shut. I nod to the couch and the two take a similar position they were in in the SUV—Emmett's head laying on Rosalie's lap.

Jasper walks back in the room, a couple of plastic bags in one hand and two duffel in the other. He has Isabella draped over his forearms and deposits her on the other side of Rosalie and the bags next to the couch.

I use the time it takes Jasper to unload the Suburban, to study the girls. They are filthy and their clothes are stained. Isabella looks dirtier than Rosalie; her hair is greasy, stringy, and dull, hinting to a lack of bathing and nutrition.

She is the girl I will have the most difficult time helping. In the file he sent, Carl mentioned the possibility of a drug addiction as a result of his son's penchant for drugging her before forcing himself on her. If that is the case, not only will I have to see her through her detox, but I will need to address it in her therapy and keep vigilant for signs of self-medicating.

It does not escape my notice that Jasper moves Alice from the car only when everything and everyone else has been removed. He has her cradled to his chest with one final duffel bag in his hand. He moves to the other armchair, and with more gentleness that was shown to either Edward or Isabella, he places Alice on the soft cushions. The corners of his mouth twitch up as he watches her squirm into a more comfortable position. When he sees that I am observing his behavior, the hint of a smile vanishes, his features totally masked.

"You had something to say?" he prompts.

I smile softly at the boy that was forced to become a man and say, "Have you all eaten dinner?"

"We've been snacking during the trip."

I open my mouth to ask if they would like something for dinner, but a groan from Edward stops me. He tries to sit up but is unable to, and slumps over to his side. "Where... What happened?"

"You climaxed to thoughts of nuns," Jasper mutters. "Then passed the hell out."

"Maybe you should tell me what happened, Jasper," I suggest.

"How did you know my name? I don't recall introducing myself to you," he responds, his guard right back up. "Just who the hell are you?"

I hold in the sigh that wants to escape and instead say, "My name is Tia, and I'm here to help you."

"You mean, with the cooking and cleaning?"

My teeth grate and I'm starting to see Jasper's misogynistic view of women. Whether it was planted in his head during early childhood or later encouraged with his time in Carl and Esme's care is yet to be determined. I quickly decide not to hold his ignorance against him and say, "Actually I'm here to help counsel all of you. The six of you will be equally responsible for the 'cooking and the cleaning'. For the most part I will be stopping in for your sessions."

Jasper is shaking his head and finally says, "No. No, this isn't right. This wasn't part of the plan. Carlisle said his therapist friend was a man."

"Yeah, he said we were meeting with a guy," Edward chips in.

"He told you exactly what I told him to tell you. Suppose you were unsuccessful in your escape. Now suppose Esme convinced one of you to divulge the specifics of the escape itself. Carl doesn't have too many female colleagues in Oregon. Esme would easily know that I'm the one helping you. Seeing as how she's never been my biggest fan, she would have no problem using her status and money to not only bury me, but my family and friends as well."

"Don't take this the wrong way, ma'am, but I don't think you'd be able to help us," Jasper says.

"Young man, I graduated _Summa Cum Laude_ at the University of Washington with and M.D. in psychiatry and, I might add, a higher GPA than your father. I've been working in the psychiatric field for twenty years. If you can find someone with credentials better than mine and someone who won't turn you over to the authorities, by all means."

"Why? Why are you helping us?" I turn to face Rosalie who has decided to join the conversation but her attention in not on me – it's focused on Emmett.

"Carl is a friend of mine. He needed my help. All of you need my help. I can't in good conscious turn my back, let the boys fall into the system, and let you receive substandard mental health care from services provided by the state."

She doesn't say any more so I turn to Jasper with an eyebrow raised. The ball is in his court. I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped; it doesn't work that way. That does not mean I can't pester them until they finally decide to open up about their problems.

Instead of challenging me again, he sighs and sits on the arm of the chair Alice is sleeping in while telling me about their eventful journey. When he gets to the part of the botched sedation I head to the office, telling Jasper to continue while I pull out my small medicine bag. I make my way to Isabella and lift her eyelids to see how her pupils react to the small beam of light I shine. Satisfied that her reaction to the drug will only be temporary, I turn my attention back to Jasper who looks uncomfortable, talking about Anthony's inappropriate behavior. His eyes keep darting to Edward and I have a feeling all of them usually walk on eggshells around him in fear of triggering his other personality. Properly medicating Edward will be my first task.

"If you guys are still hungry, there is food in the kitchen. This is your temporary home. I want you to feel safe and comfortable here, but I do want to lay down some ground rules," I say, leveling all of the kids that are awake a serious look.

"Ground rules," Edward asks still on the ground.

"Look at them more as guidelines. One: none of you are prisoners here, but I urge you not to leave. This house is in the middle of nowhere, and you have a greater chance of getting lost and dying from nature and the elements than you would finding help. It rains so much that all of the paths are hard to find and have a tendency to move. Next, please refrain from sexual activity. Girls," I say looking at Rosalie, "it is not your responsibility to service the guys anymore. You will not be punished or hurt if you refuse."

I turn back and look at each of the guys and say, "Is that understood?"

All of them nod their heads but Edward is the one in deep thought. Perhaps he is wondering if he can talk for both him and Anthony.

"There are four bedrooms. Two of them are upstairs while the other two are back, past the kitchen. I think it best if the girls bunk in one room while the guys take the bedrooms on a separate floor."

As soon as the words are out, Emmett starts thrashing his head and saying, "Na-uh. I'm sleeping with Mommy tonight. You can't take her from me. No."

I am surprised at the hostility in the glare that Rosalie shoots me, and she defiantly takes his hand and heads for one of the bedrooms in the back. Knowing that their relationship is far more complicated than the others, I let it go for now and turn back to Jasper.

"If you're not hungry, will you help me put the girls to bed?"

He nods his head and lifts Isabella before heading for the stairs and directly to one of the bedrooms. The two bedrooms have a queen size bed each, a bathroom, and an armoire by the corner. I help him pull back the covers from one of the beds and watch as he places her down in the middle of it. Without so much as a second glance, he walks out of the room. I make a move to remove her shoes, only to realize that she is barefoot. The bottoms of her feet are dirty and calloused. I pull the blanket up to her chin as Jasper enters the room with Alice in his arms. We repeat the same process, only he lingers with her and refuses to allow me to help in any other way.

I make a noise to remind him of my presence. He turns to look at me with a glare and huffs as he walks away. Just as he reaches the door, a noise coming from Alice's side stops him. He looks surprised as Alice moves away from the bed and joins Isabella, pulling the covers over their heads completely. It's apparent to me, that Alice is protecting Isabella. Jasper makes a move to come back, but I stop him with glare of my own.

"Good night, Jasper," I say, in the most authoritative voice I can muster. Instead of waiting for a response, which I know I won't receive, I usher him out and close the door behind me while waiting for him to walk down the steps.

I wait upstairs and listen to all the sounds around me for the all clear. The girls are all in bed and sleeping, and the boys are too. Instead of taking the second upstairs room for myself, I make my camp on the largest sofa in the living room.

She slowly circles the man, lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. She's wearing the sophisticated sundress that she was wearing on the society pages the day I decided to leave Seattle. I recognize the tiny office they are in. It is one I spent hours in, discussing politics and plans, making love on the desk, or simply being held in the arms of the man that she is now taunting. I would recognize Eli's cluttered office anywhere. People said our divorce was unnatural, that we shouldn't still meet up for coffee or call each other when we have both good news and bad. How could I not have him as a friend? Eli understands me in ways I can't begin to explain, and after years with him, I stopped looking for words to define our bond. To this day I still love him, but it wasn't enough.

The soft yellow of the flower print dress makes me sick when I see the blood that is splattered there. He reaches a hand out, desperately trying to reach the telephone. The demon bitch sees it and a cold sick smile spreads across her face as she takes the phone and base and brings it crashing down on his skull. Over and over again, and there's not a damn thing I can do but watch. Watch as she brutally kills one of my best friends—my soul mate.

I gasp, my belly tight and sore at how quickly I wrench my body in an upright position. Surprisingly, the sun has made its way through the canopy of the forest and infiltrates the living room. I'm in the cabin, away from the office where I saw Eli's death.

It wasn't real.

"Trouble sleeping?" I turn and see the owner of the voice is Jasper. I can only nod my head and he goes on to say, "She'll kill us if she finds us."

"Most of us. Yes," I say, agreeing with his statement. I have never been one to sugar-coat things and I refuse to do so now. Jasper knows just as well as I do the lengths Esme Cullen will go through to get what she wants. Deciding to move past the nightmare I'd just had, I say, "Can you go wake up Edward. I'll get Rosalie and Emmett."

"And Alice?"

"I'll ask Rosalie to take care of both Alice and Isabella." Seeing that he is about to protest, I raise my hand and say, "You and the guys have another task to worry about."

"Task?" he asks, as if the concept is foreign.

"Yes, task. Now go wake up Edward. You'll have time to freshen up later so meet me in the kitchen."

I wait for him to walk away before I make a move to stand up. I place my feet in my usual slippers, and while I walk to the rooms behind the kitchen, I place my hair in a ponytail. I can hear Jasper argue with Edward, trying to convince him to get up as I pass their room. I finally reach the last room and knock four consecutive, loud knocks. I gently pry the door open a slot and give them a warning that I'm about to walk in. They will soon learn that privacy will not be a possibility.

I open the door, and first thing to catch my eye is the ripped blouse on the floor. I hesitantly look at the occupants in the bed, not wanting to see any naked flesh. A bare-chested Rosalie is lying in the middle of the bed with the sheet up to her waist. Half of Emmett's body is on top of hers with his mouth attached to one of her nipples. Thankfully, he's on top of the sheets and completely dressed. They are both still asleep. This will be an issue that will have to be addressed. I make a mental note to ask Rosalie how long she has been breast-feeding Emmett and the name of medication she is taking. Her file indicated only the possibility.

I make my way to their bed and gently shake Rosalie's hand. Her eyes snap open and widen when she sees me standing near her. I place my arms in a surrender notion, and say, "Good morning. I need for you to wake up Isabella and Alice for me; I don't want to scare them. You girls take your time and shower. Everything you need is in the bathroom's storage cabinet. There is also new clothing in the armoire as well as undergarments. When you guys are done, meet us in the kitchen."

Her small nod is the only indication she makes that she understands. I clear my throat and with my eyebrows raised, I pointedly look at her chest. "Make sure he goes directly to the kitchen."

Her eyes widen when she realizes that Emmett has begun to suckle her breast in his sleep. She hastily reaches for the covers and pushes Emmett off her chest at the same time. I leave the room immediately after that. When I reach the kitchen, both Jasper and Edward are already waiting for me. It takes another five minutes for Emmett to join us; he avoids eye contact with me and sits next to his brothers.

"Do any of you know how to cook breakfast?" I ask. When they shake their heads no, it takes great effort for me to hold in the sigh. Not only have they been psychologically abused, they have also been domestically repressed, no doubt by Esme being over-bearing.

Yep, they are in for a rude awakening.

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><p><strong><span>AN: Was it who you were expecting? What did you think of Tia?**


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